


Potsie Love

by QueenofSchmoop



Series: Potsie Love [1]
Category: Happy Days
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Dark, Depression, Domestic Violence, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Schmoop, Smut, Song Lyrics, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Talk of Suicide, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 10:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13785819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofSchmoop/pseuds/QueenofSchmoop
Summary: Potsie Webber’s life has gone downhill lately. He’s invisible to his friends, he’s in love with someone he shouldn’t be, and his home life is terrible. When he tries to kill himself, things begin to happen. Things he never expected. This is Potsie’s story.





	1. Chapter 1

Potsie Webber watched as his friends walked out of Arnold’s. They had forgotten him, sitting there, and it was the final straw. He got up very slowly and walked out, noting the gang was already far off. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he went home. 

When he got there he heard the fighting from outside. Not wanting to listen to it, knowing what it could lead to, he bypassed the house and headed to the clearing. There he found the old tree fort, the one he and Richie had built when they were kids. It was much too small now but he got up into it anyway and curled up. He didn’t even notice the tears on his face as he wept. 

He thought back to how things had been getting worse for him lately. College was rough. His life at home was rough. He never got to see Richie anymore because he was always with Fonzie or Lori Beth. Ralph treated him like a comedy partner more than anything else. And there was something else. 

Two months ago he had been in the library at school. He’d forgotten the time and it was late, almost closing. He had gotten up to go and heard a noise. He looked and saw two men, men he knew to be juniors, locked in a tight embrace. At first he had thought they were fighting and was about to try to break it up but then he looked closer. He saw they were kissing. 

He hadn’t known what to think and he sure didn’t want them to know he’d seen them. He’d slunk back to his corner until the librarian announced closing time then walked out. He’d been thinking about it, about _himself_ , ever since. 

He stayed up in the tree house as long as he could and eventually went home. His parents didn’t say a word as he trudged in and went up to his room. He changed, went to bed, and lay there for a long time before he fell asleep. 

***

“Rich. Hey, Richie can I talk to you?”

“Not now, Potsie, I’m telling Lori Beth a story. I’ll talk to you later, all right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Potsie nodded and walked away. He looked back and saw Richie and Lori Beth sitting together, Ralph chatting away with friends, Fonz entertaining several girls and Joanie and Chachi together too. He turned and walked out, no one noticing he’d gone. 

He went home, found his notebook and a pencil and began to write. He scribbled and erased then he copied it all over, ripped the pages out and folded them carefully. He put them in an envelope and wrote “Richie Cunningham” on it and tucked it in his pocket. He debated taking it over to Richie’s house but feared someone else might read it and try to stop him. After thinking for a moment he nodded and stood. 

As he walked out of the house he realized he felt better than he had in some time. It lightened his steps considerably. 

“Chachi?”

“Who’s there? Oh, Potsie, it’s you.”

“Yeah.” Potsie came into the light. “You here by yourself?”

“Just cleaning up and closing the place. You need something?”

“A favor, Chach.” He pulled the letter out of his pocket. “Can you give this to Richie next time you see him?”

“Sure,” Chachi said, taking it. “But aren’t you gonna see him first? And why a letter?”

“It’s not important, Chach, just see that he gets it all right?”

“Sure thing, Potsie.”

“Thanks.” Potsie paused like he wanted to say something else but then shook his head and walked back into the dark night. 

 

_The next day, at Arnold’s_

Richie was sitting and talking to Fonzie when Ralph came in. 

“Rich. Have you seen Pots?”

“No. I haven’t seen him all day. I thought he was with you.”

“No. I thought he was with you.”

“I’m sure the nerd is around here somewhere,” Fonz put in. He snapped his fingers and a cute blond girl appeared at his side. “I got a bit of kink in my neck. Work on it, would ya doll?” She got to work. 

“Huh. That’s strange. Do you think he’s sick?”

“Sick in the head,” Ralph laughed. “He missed class though. He’ll get in trouble if he’s not sick.”

“You guys talking about Potsie?” Chachi asked as he came over. “That reminds me, he gave me something last night.”

“A cold?” Ralph laughed. “I still got it!”

“No, Malph, a letter. Asked me to give it to Richie.” Chachi pulled it out of his pocket and held it out. 

“A letter? For me? Why would he write me a letter? And why wouldn’t he give it to me himself?” 

“Maybe if you open it and read it, Cunningham,” Fonzie said, “you’ll find out. Little to the left, sweetheart. That’s it.”

Richie opened the letter. He had barely started when his eyes got wide as saucers. Seeing the change Fonz snapped his fingers and the girl went away. Richie got more and more agitated. When he got to the end he shouted, “oh no!” 

“What is it? Did he sign up for the Army?” 

“This isn’t funny, Ralph!” Richie stood. “We gotta find him. Right away!” He was looking around frantically, as if expecting Potsie to just show up. 

“Whoa, slow down, Red. What’s the problem?”

Richie took a deep breath. “Fonz, I think…,” he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Look, I think Potsie might be hurt. Please, we have to find him. Please.”

Fonz nodded. “All right.” He started pointing. “You, go check the park. You, check the school. Malph, go to his house and see if he’s there. Chachi, check my garage and the surrounding area. Richie and I are heading to the Cunningham’s, see if Potsie’s there.” He looked at everyone staring at him. “Move it!” They scattered. He turned and saw complete fear in Richie’s eyes. “It’ll be all right, Rich.”

“I’m not so sure,” Richie muttered, then grabbed his jacket and ran out, Fonz and Lori Beth on his heels. 

“Mom! Dad! Anyone!”

“Richard, what on earth--?!” Marion Cunningham came bustling out of the kitchen, drying her hands. 

“Mom! Have you seen Potsie?”

“Not today dear. Why?”

“Is Dad here? Joanie?”

“Your father is still at the store and Joanie is in the backyard. Oh hello Arthur, Lori Beth. Perhaps one of you could tell me what is going on?” She watched her son race upstairs. “I wonder about that boy sometimes. Fonzie, what’s going on?”

“I wish I knew, Mrs. C. We’re looking for Potsie though. Have you seen him?”

“No.” She was about to say more when Richie appeared on the stairs. 

“He’s not here. Fonz, he’s not here!”

“I know that, Red. Maybe one of the others found him.”

“Maybe. Why haven’t they called then? Why hasn’t anyone called or found him or--?” Richie suddenly sat down on the couch with his head in his hands. 

Mrs. Cunningham came forward and put her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Richie, what is this all about? What’s got you so upset?”

Richie looked up and there were tears in his eyes. “It’s all my fault, Mom. Mine. If he’s…” he stopped, the thought too horrible to contemplate. He jumped up. “I gotta go look for him.”

He was halfway out the door when the phone rang. Joanie, who had come in when she heard the shouting and was nearest, answered. 

“Hello? Yes, Ralph, they’re here. What? Where? Yes, I’ll tell them.” She hung up. “That was Ralph. He says they haven’t found him but they did find his jacket by Old Mill Road.”

“Old Mill Road?” Richie thought then snapped his fingers. “The tree house! C’mon, Fonz!” He raced out the door. Fonzie and everyone else followed after. 

Soon they were where Ralph and his group were waiting. “Ralph!” Richie skidded to a halt. “Have you seen him?”

“No. But there’s his jacket. We left it right where it was.”

“What, were you expecting to dust for prints?” Joanie cracked but Richie was looking off to the nearby lot. Without a word he took off as fast as he could. Everyone paused, watching, then went after him. 

“Potsie! Potsie, are you up there?” Richie shouted as he ran to the tree where they’d had the tree house. 

“I remember this old tree house,” Mr. Cunningham said as they closed in. After receiving a phone call from Marion he’d come to join the group. “You boys built this ages ago with lumber from my hardware store. Never did pay me back, either.”

But Richie wasn’t listening. He swung up onto the ladder, not hearing it start to crack under him. 

“Oh Richard, be careful!” Marion cried, wringing her hands. 

Richie got to the top and muscled his way in. They all heard the crack as he fell to his knees. 

“FONZ!” Richie leaned over the side and screamed, “we need an ambulance! Right now!” Then he disappeared again. 

Fonzie swung into action. “Ralph, Joanie, you two go call.” He watched them scurry off. “Richie, I’m coming up.”

“No! The tree house is barely big enough for both of us.” He looked over the side again. “I need a blanket or something to staunch all this blood.”

“Blood?” Marion cried. “Arthur, did he say blood?”

“Chachi, give me your shirt.”

“Sure thing, Fonz.” Chachi whipped it off and handed it over. 

“Here it comes, Red.” He threw it up and watched Richie’s hand fly out and catch. 

“Thanks.” All was fairly quiet. So quiet they could hear Richie talking. “Potsie, don’t you die on me. You hear me? You can’t leave me, not now. Not after that letter.” They all heard his voice break and fill with tears. “C’mon Potsie. Don’t leave me.”

“Oh Howard,” Marion whispered as he put his arm around her. 

“Where’s that ambulance?” Fonzie turned to look at the road. Just then Ralph came flying back around the corner. 

“Fonz! Joanie’s by the road waiting. They said it would be a few minutes.”

“He might not have a few minutes, Malph!” He stopped. “Richie, I’m coming up and we’re gonna get Webber out of there and take him to the hospital ourselves.”

There was a pause then, “I don’t think he’d survive the trip, Fonzie.” Richie’s voice broke. “There’s so much blood, I’m surprised he’s even still alive. Oh God, he must have been up here for hours!” They all heard it as Richie began to sob. 

“Cunningham! You listen to me! You hold it together, you understand? We’re gonna get help for Webber and he’s gonna be fine. Now, does the Fonz ever lie?”

They heard a choked sob. “No. The Fonz never lies.”

“All right.” He began to climb up but just then they heard sirens in the distance. “See, here comes help. Chachi, you go out there and direct them in with Shortcake.”

Chachi took off. Soon the ambulance workers were coming. They had to get Richie cleared out. When he got to the bottom Marion nearly fainted at all the blood on his clothes. 

They got Potsie down and put him on the stretcher. They began to carry him to the ambulance. One man held back the crowd. “Sorry, only room for one to go with him.”

“That’s me,” Richie said, then turned back to his parents. “Meet us at the hospital?”

“Of course, Richie,” Howard said. “We all will.” They watched, helplessly as Potsie and Richie were swept away. 

_Later, at the hospital_

Everyone was sitting and waiting. Richie and his family, The Fonz and Chachi, Ralph Malph and Lori Beth. Al. Everyone except the Warrens were there. They’d been waiting for word on Potsie for some time. Several people had tried to question Richie but he said nothing. Just sat there in his blood stained clothes and stared at his hands. He hadn’t even wanted to wash them but his mother had made him. 

Marion was getting up to go get everyone drinks when Mr. and Mrs. Warren came in the waiting room. 

“Oh, you’re here!” she cried. She rushed over, Howard standing as well. “Isn’t it awful?” She started to embrace Mrs. Warren but pulled back. The woman had obviously been drinking. 

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. They wheeled him back there and there hasn’t been word since,” she said. 

Mr. Warren frowned. “Is he dead?”

Several people gasped at the insensitivity, Fonzie stood up and Ralph--who had been standing--sat down. Richie kept staring at his hands. 

“We don’t know,” Howard said softly. “They haven’t told us.”

“We should find out. If he is we can go home.”

Marion put her hand to her mouth. Howard went to his wife and pulled her back as the Warrens went to find a doctor. They must have come up empty handed because soon they were back. They sat, in silence, on the other side of the room. 

Half an hour later, a doctor finally appeared. 

“Doctor,” Howard said, as he was the first to see him. Nearly everyone stood.

“Are the young man’s parents here?” He was directed to the Warrens. “I’m afraid your son lost a lot of blood. We had to give him several transfusions and monitored him very closely. But we think he’ll be all right. The doctors have stitched up his arms and he’s asleep now, resting. We’ll keep him for observation.”

“Stitches?” Mr. Warren asked. “Why stitches?”

“You weren’t told?” The doctor looked at the others. When he saw heads shaking he turned back. “I’m afraid your son tried to kill himself. He slashed his wrists.”

There were several gasps but Mr. Warren’s face just got cold. “I see. Well, in that case, we’ll turn him over to you, doctor.”

“What?” 

“Well, he’s obviously unhinged. He needs to be committed. You can see to that.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Fonzie stepped forward. “Potsie is a lot of things but unhinged ain’t one of ‘em. I’m sure it was a mistake or an accident or something. You can’t do that.”

“I am his father. I can do that.” Ignoring the Fonz, Mr. Webber turned back to the doctor. “If you have any papers you need me to sign, I shall do so.”

“You’re not signing anything.” It was the first thing Richie Cunningham had said in hours and, though it was spoken quietly, it rang out. Everyone turned to look at him. He was still seated but now he looked up. 

“Young man, you have no right to--”

Richie stood, fury radiating off him. “You’re going to leave. You’re going to leave this hospital and leave Potsie alone and never bother him again or so help me, I will have the law on you so fast it will make your head spin. I know what you’ve been doing. And I think you’re scum.” He still hadn’t moved but his fists were clenched and his even, cold tone made everyone shiver. Joanie grabbed her mother’s hand.

“You do anything to him and I swear you’ll pay. You’re going to leave him alone, leave him to us. Those who love him. Potsie’s going to come live with us and be away from you.” 

Mrs. Webber blinked at them but said nothing. Her husband scowled. “He is my son--”

“No. Not anymore.” It was said with such finality that it was like a pronouncement from God. “Now get out.”

“You cannot tell me--” Mr. Warren began to bluster. 

Before anyone could move, Richie was up, across the room and had slammed the man into the wall. He was rearing back to punch him when the Fonz grabbed his arm. “Whoa, Red. Cool down.”

Richie visibly took hold of himself. “Get out now.”

“I’ll have you up on assault charges, you little hoodlum.”

The Fonz turned and looked right at the man. “I think my friend told you to leave.” He stomped his foot and the doors to the waiting room opened. “Now.”

Seeing the steely stares of everyone there, Mr. Warren grabbed his wife’s arm and tugged her. “We’re leaving. To get the police.”

Richie, who had already dismissed the man, turned to Fonzie. “Thanks, Fonz.”

“Never seen you so worked up, Rich. You leave the fighting to me, okay?”

“Deal.” A very tiny smile crossed his face. He faced the doctor. “Can we see Potsie now?”

The doctor was still staring. He finally shook himself. “Seeing as how you’re not family…” he trailed off as everyone looked at him. “Only one of you.”

“Richie.” Everyone said it together. 

“Thanks guys.” He looked around gratefully then followed the doctor back. 

He had to stop to get a hold of himself as he saw Potsie lying in that bed. He looked smaller than usual, bandages wrapped around both wrists and arms. 

“Only a few minutes,” the doctor admonished. 

Nodding, Richie approached the bed, barely hearing the door close behind him. He stood by the bed and struggled to find words. Finally he leaned over and brushed Potsie’s hair off his forehead. “Potsie, you’re gonna be all right. We’re gonna get you outta here and take you home with us and everything is going to be fine. I promise.” He tried to say more but the tears threatened again and he didn’t dare. Not yet. He was still standing there, stroking his fingers through Potsie’s hair when a nurse came in and told him he had to go. 

With one last touch, he left, stopping in the hall to gather himself. Then he marched back out to the waiting room. They all went silent when they saw him.


	2. Chapter 2

“Mom, Dad, we’re going to need to clean up the spare room. Joanie, you and Chachi get some fresh flowers for it, all right? Make it bright and cheerful.” He turned. “Ralph, go to the college and tell his teachers Potsie’s going to be out for a while. Tell them he had an accident and make sure to get his assignments, all right?”

“Got it, Rich.”

“Al, I know you have to get back to Arnold’s. Thanks for coming.”

“No problem, Richie.”

“Lori Beth, can you stay here and keep me posted?”

“Where are you going?”

“To the Warrens. To pick up Potsie’s stuff.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Red,” Fonzie said.

“He’s going to need his things and better us getting them than him going back to that house.”

“I still--”

“Richard, why don’t you and Arthur go home and get the guest room ready?” Marion interrupted. “Howard and I will go over and get Potsie’s things.”

“We will?” Seeing his wife’s face, Howard shrugged. “I guess we will. We’ll also talk to him about earlier.” He gave Richie a look that suggested _their_ conversation was coming yet as well. 

Richie debated then nodded. “All right. Probably for the best. I’d just want to knock his block off anyway.” He kissed his mother’s cheek. “You be careful though.” He paused. “Maybe Fonzie should go with you.”

“Nonsense. Arthur should go with you. Come along Howard.” She led him out, the others following. Richie stood there and then he and Fonzie also left. 

Everyone was very busy in the next few hours. People were coming and going in the Cunningham house. Soon Marion and Howard appeared with boxes of things from Potsie’s house. Marion only said that things had been ‘settled’. When everything was all set up she took everyone downstairs to feed them. 

Everyone except Richie, who asked to be alone in the room for a moment. 

After they had all left, he sat down on the floor and pulled the letter--now stained with Potsie’s blood--out of his back pocket. He read it and halfway in, the dam broke. He just wrapped his arms around his knees and wept like a child. When he felt a bit better he stood, crossed to the bathroom and washed his face, then went downstairs. 

_One Week Later_

“Just a little further, Pots.” Richie led his friend into the guest room. Luckily, he’d talked everyone else into letting him be the only one to bring the man home, thinking too many people would overwhelm. He nervously fluffed the pillow and smoothed the bedspread then stepped back. “Are you tired? Do you need to take a nap?”

Potsie just shrugged. He hadn’t spoken much since waking up. He hadn’t smiled either, not even when Ralph was cracking his best jokes. The only time any expression had crossed his face was when Richie had told him that he didn’t have to go back to his house, that he would be moving in with the Cunningham’s. Richie had watched relief, panic and a kind of happiness war on Potsie’s face. Then it had gone blank and he had simply nodded. 

Now he climbed into bed, still mostly clothed and lay down, closing his eyes immediately. Richie stared at him for a minute then left, knowing it would do no good to stay. 

He encountered his mother on the stairs. “Mom?”

“I was just going to go check on Warren, dear.”

“He’s sleeping. I think we should leave him alone for a while.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. He needs his rest.”

That was how things went for several days. Potsie mostly stayed in his room, venturing out to eat very little. He spoke to almost no one and only when asked a direct question. His face stayed as blank as possible. And though he kept going to ‘take a nap’, bags began to appear under his eyes. 

Richie took him back to have his wrists looked at by the doctor and to have his bandages shortened. 

That night, at supper, Potsie was picking at his food as usual. 

“Well, starting this next Monday you should be able to go back to class,” Mr. Cunningham said jovially. “It will be good to get back to normal, right Potsie?”

Potsie just shrugged. Marion and Howard exchanged glances. Richie looked worried. 

“You _are_ going to go back to college, aren’t you Pots?”

Potsie shrugged again. 

“Potsie,” Richie began to get angry then blew out a breath. “Well, if you don’t think you’re ready, I guess I understand. I can have Ralph tell them you need another week to recover.” 

Silence. 

They ate the rest of the meal that way. 

Potsie eventually muttered, “’scuse me” and headed upstairs. 

“You should really talk to him, Richie. He seems down.” Joanie was concerned. 

“He needs time.”

Howard stood. “I have to get to the Leopard Lodge. Marion, you have your club tonight, don’t you? Would you like me to drop you off?”

“Yes, dear, just let me run and get my purse.” She headed up the stairs. 

“I’ve got a date with Chachi,” Joanie also stood. “He’s been so sweet since--” she cut herself off. “Richie? You going out with Lori Beth tonight?”

“What?” Richie had been staring after where Potsie had gone. “Yeah. Lori Beth.”

“Sounds like Potsie will have the house to himself. Might do him some good.”

“Yeah.” Richie didn’t exactly sound convinced. 

Soon everyone was leaving. Richie stopped by the guest room--Potsie’s room now really--and knocked. He was used to getting no answer so he let himself in. Potsie lay on the bed, facing away from the door. “Pots? Um, Dad’s got a Lodge meeting and Mom’s out too. Joanie and I are both going on dates so looks like you’ll have the house to yourself.” He saw Pots shrug and waited for a minute then left. 

Potsie waited until Richie had shut the door and then he sat up. He stayed very still then nodded to himself and got up. He packed a bag and went downstairs and packed a few things to eat. He was just shoving an apple in when the door opened again. 

It was Richie. 

Potsie froze. 

Richie crossed over to him. “Going somewhere?”

Potsie shrugged. 

That was it. “Pots, I’ve had enough of this. I know things have been tough for you but you can at least talk to me. I know there’s nothing wrong with your mouth. And now you’re just, what, taking off? Were you even going to leave a note this time?” Furious, he grabbed the bag and threw it across the room. “How long was it gonna be until someone found you dead this time, Potsie?” He reached out, grabbed his friend by the collar and pulled him in close. “How long?!” he screamed. 

Potsie said nothing and Richie let go of him. He turned and hung his head. After a few seconds, he swiped his hand across his damp eyes. “Well, if that’s how you feel then you can get out.”

No one moved. 

“It’s for the best,” Potsie said. 

Richie whipped around. “For _whose_ best, Pots? Yours? Mine?”

“All of us.” Finally Potsie was showing signs of life. “I can’t live here!”

“Why not?”

“You know why not. You read the letter! Didn’t you?”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“How can I live in the same house as the guy I’m in love with, Rich?” Potsie shouted, throwing his arms in the air. “Especially now that he knows how screwed up I am?”

“Potsie--” 

But it all came pouring out. “You know everything, Rich. I didn’t think I’d live so I told you all of it. Now, not only that, but I’m a wacko who tried to kill himself. With the scars to prove it.” He held up his arms, still bandaged. “Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I should be in a nuthouse.”

“You’re not crazy.”

“I’m sick is what I am. I,” he faltered and then seemed to be steeling himself, “I have these thoughts, desires.” He closed his eyes, as if in pain. 

“Tell me, Potsie.” Richie reached out and touched his arm but Potsie jerked back as if burned. 

“You shouldn’t touch me! I’m tainted. Unclean. Something.” Potsie turned his back. He began to cry. Soon the tears overwhelmed him and he crumpled to the ground. Richie stood still but could not leave his friend like this. He knelt down with him and put his arms around him. 

At first Potsie was stiff but then he turned and melted into Richie’s arms. They sat on the floor, holding on as he wept. When his eyes were red and his chest hurt, Potsie finally stopped crying. He went to wipe his nose on his sleeve but Richie stopped him. He pulled his hankie out and gave it to him, then helped Potsie up and over to the couch. Without a thought he took his friend back into his arms and pulled him close. 

“Talk to me, Pots. Please?”

“You read the letter. It told you everything.”

Richie went still, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out the letter. Potsie pulled back, blinking. “You carry it with you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Rich admitted. He held it out. “Read it to me?”

“What? No.”

“I’ve read it a million times. I could recite it word for word. But I want to hear it in your voice.”

“Why? For the humiliation?!”

“No. Because I think it will do you good. And I want to hear you say these things. Admit them.”

“I don’t want to. It was hard enough writing it down. Saying them out loud…”

“Would be like making them true?”

Potsie’s silence confirmed his thought. 

Richie unfolded the pieces of paper. “Please? For me?”

“Not fair.”

“I know.”

Potsie finally held out a hand. Richie gave him the letter. Pots sat back and coughed. 

_Dear Richie,_

_By the time you read this I will be gone. Not gone as in on a trip but gone as in dead. I can’t take it anymore, Rich, and so I’m going to end it. I mean, I’m going to kill myself._

_Things have gotten bad for me, Rich. Worse than before and even that was bad. Much worse than I let on to you or Ralph or anyone. You know my Dad and I never really got along. But you don’t know the whole story. My Mom drinks. A lot. She’s home most days by herself and she pretty much drinks the whole time. So she’s no help._

_My Dad. He’s never liked me, never been proud of me, never even wanted me, I think. But lately he’s been getting meaner. Taking out his frustration on me. He even started hitting me. Oh, not bad, but slaps and a few punches. Not where anyone can see them. And he always says stuff. Like I’m a loser and a failure and a waste of a human being. But he’s been saying stuff like that most of my life so I ignored it. But it weighs you down, you know?_

_Then there’s you. You’ve been my best friend for years but I feel like we’re not close anymore. I know I’m not cool like Fonz but you spend most of your time with him rather than me. When you have a problem you go to him to talk about it, not me. We used to tell each other everything, Richie. Now, sometimes it feels like you don’t even know me anymore. Or want to be around me._

_Then there’s the other thing._

Potsie stopped and said nothing for so long that Richie had to prompt him. “Potsie?”

“You said you know the rest.”

“I do. But I want to hear it from you.”

Potsie knew that he would give in so he picked the paper back up. 

_I never told you, Richie, but I always kinda faked my interest in girls. Sure, they’re pretty and smell good, mostly. But I was always more interested in hanging out with you and the other guys, or my music. Kissing girls was nice but no big deal. I always wondered what was wrong with me until a couple of months back._

_Then I figured it out. I saw two men at the library. They were kissing. Each other. I guess they were, what’s that word? Homosexual? That’s when I realized…I’m pretty sure I am too. Cause when I thought about kissing guys? Rich, it was like a whole new thing. I suddenly got what you’ve been talking about with Lori Beth and what Ralph says and just…_

Potsie was hanging his head and speaking so softly that Richie had to strain to hear. But he didn’t stop. It was like ripping off a Band-Aid now. He had to finish. 

_…thinking back on everything I began to realize that there was one person who made me feel better than anyone. One person I wanted to spend my time with, one person who I cared about above all others. That person was you, Richie. And when I thought about you in that way? It turned me on, Richie. It turned me on harder than anything ever has. Just the thought of kissing you was exciting beyond anything I’d ever thought of with a girl._

_But it was more than sex. You’re my best friend before anything else. And that made me realize…I’m in love with you. I know you’re not interested in me. You like girls._

_So you’re leaving me behind for Lori Beth and friends like Fonz and all that. You’re going to be a successful writer and have a family. And me? I’m better off dead. I’m sorry for burdening you with all this but I had to. I guess I had to get this all off my chest, Rich. Consider it my last confession. I hope you’ll think of me with some small affection when I’m gone. From the time when we were close, when we were friends._

_Good-bye, Richie Cunningham._

_I love you._

_Warren “Potsie” Webber_

Potsie sat down on the footstool. Richie let the silence stretch out then stood and crossed to him. He gently took the letter back, folded it and put it back in his pocket. Then he knelt down, put his arms around his friend and pulled him close. 

“I’m so sorry, Pots.” He began to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

Alarmed, Potsie said, “it’s not your fault I’m screwed up, Rich.”

“I never knew about your problems at home. I feel bad that you felt I was ignoring you for Fonzie.” He turned a tear streaked face up. “And you were going through some big emotional stuff with, you know, and I didn’t know that either. I ignored you and treated you terribly until…,” he shuddered. 

Potsie looked away. “It’s not your fault, Rich,” he said again. 

“Potsie. Look at me.” When he finally did, Richie continued, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. And I’m honored that you feel that way about me. I’m very flattered.” He watched Potsie blush and smiled. “I promise to be a better friend from now on. So please don’t leave?”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re here. Don’t you understand, Richie? You’re a constant reminder of how sick I am. And--” He bit his lip and cut himself off. 

“And?”

“I still have feelings for you. It’s really tough being around you all the time and feeling that way.”

Richie thought about it. “Yeah, I guess I can see how that would be. But Pots, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Why not?”

“I’d worry too much. Plus, we’re your family.” 

Potsie broke free of Richie’s hold. “You’re not my family.”

“But we are. We’re the people who love you and care about you and want you to be happy. That’s what families are, Pots. So please. Will you stay?”

“I….I…”

“Potsie.” Richie crossed over to him and touched his shoulder. 

Potsie flinched back. “See? Do you know what it’s like, Rich? You touch me and I just want to--” He stopped himself.

“Do what? What could be so bad?”


	3. Chapter 3

Potsie whirled, grabbed Richie and crushed their mouths together. He let go a second later. “That. I want to do that. I want to kiss you and touch you and go to Inspiration Point with you. I dream about you, Rich. I want to sing you love songs and hang out at Arnold’s holding hands. It hurts to have you so close and not be able to do any of that. It hurts _so much_. So, no, I can’t stay.” Potsie walked away. 

Richie stood, rooted to the ground and watched him pick up his bags and head for the door. Potsie had his hand on the knob when Richie spoke. “Do that again.”

“What?”

“Do that again. Kiss me again.”

“Rich,” Potsie sighed, turning. Richie was already on the move. He pushed Potsie against the door and got right up close. 

Richie let out a shaky breath. “Kiss me again Potsie, or I’m kissing you.”

Potsie looked at him and shrugged. He bent his head and pecked Richie’s lips. When he pulled back Richie was staring at him. 

“Pots?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you can do better than that.”

Potsie figured this might be his only chance so he took Richie in his arms, turned him around, pushed him against the door and laid one on him. He groaned as Richie’s mouth opened under his and their tongues touched. He felt his friend’s arms come up and pulled him closer, their bodies flush against each other. 

Potsie finally let go and pulled back but Richie’s arm prevented him from going too far. His breath was harsh and he licked his lips, savoring the taste of Richie on them. 

“Wow,” Richie gasped, “Potsie, you can **kiss**.”

Potsie blushed. “I never kissed anyone like that before.”

“Oh yeah?” Richie smiled. “Do it again.” He pulled Potsie down for another. 

Halfway through that second kiss Potsie’s brain kicked in and he wrenched himself out of it. “Wait, Richie, what are you doing?”

“Getting the best kiss of my life.” He tried to tug Potsie back. 

“But you’re not like me,” Pots protested. 

“Maybe I am.” Seeing that the kissing portion was over, Richie took Potsie’s hand and led him back to the couch. “I was going out with Lori Beth tonight.”

“I remember.”

“We’d barely started our date when I realized that I didn’t want to be with her. I wanted to be here. With you.”

“To keep an eye on me?”

“No. To spend time with you, Potsie. I thought it was because you’re my friend but, to tell you the truth Potsie,” Richie looked down, a little embarrassed, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. Thinking about how much I missed you and how much I like being your friend. And about what you said in the letter. Wondering what you were thinking about me.”

Potsie blushed and squirmed. 

“It made me think about, well, about what it would be like to kiss you, Pots.”

“So this was just to satisfy your curiosity?”

“No!” Richie stood and paced then turned back to face his friend. “It’s about how I’d rather be here with you than with Lori Beth.”

“Yeah right.” Potsie shrugged. 

“Really. Potsie, I have to admit I’ve never thought of you in, you know, that way before. But once I did…well, you’re pretty much my ideal girl. I mean, guy. Oh you know what I mean.”

“Sure Richie. Look--”

Richie sat down, pulled Potsie to him and put his finger over his mouth. “I love Lori Beth.” He watched Potsie’s eyes shutter closed. “But Pots? Before I ever loved her, I loved you.”

“As a friend.”

“Yes. But friendship can blossom into love. Romantic love. They say the best relationships are when people start out as friends.”

“Not between two men.”

“Maybe even then.” Richie moved close. “While I was out with Lori Beth, thinking of you, I realized,” he looked right at Potsie, “that I want to give it a try.”

“Give what a try?”

“Being with you.”

Potsie gave a very sad smile and put his hands on Richie’s shoulder. “That’s very sweet, Rich. Thanks.”

“It’s not pity,” he started to protest.

“Look, go back out with Lori Beth. Tell her you were sick or confused or something. I’ll be all right. I promise, I won’t leave.” He held up his hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Then Potsie’s honor. Richie,” he couldn’t help it as he leaned forward and touched his crush’s face. “It means a lot to me that you care. Go on though.” 

Richie knew he wouldn’t be able to get to him. Not now. “I’ll go. But I’m going to prove myself to you Potsie Webber.”

Potsie watched Richie get up and put his coat back on and head for the door. “I promise,” he said as Rich hesitated. “See?” He got up and picked his stuff up and started heading back upstairs. “I’m going.” He watched Richie go and thought for a moment about leaving but he’d promised. He could always leave another time. 

_One Month Later_

“Howard, can you get the door? I’m getting the roast out of the oven.”

Howard Cunningham levered himself out off the couch and went to get the door. “Oh hello, Lori Beth. Come on in.”

“Hello, Mr. Cunningham. Are the boys ready?”

“They’ll be down in a minute. You look very nice.”

“Thank you.” She smoothed down her dress. “Hello, Mrs. Cunningham,” she said as Marion came out of the kitchen carrying the roast. 

“Hello Lori Beth. What a pretty dress. The boys will be down shortly.”

“It smells delicious.”

“Thank you. I wish you had time to eat with us.”

“I wish we did too but the dance starts at 7.”

“Lori Beth,” Richie called as he and Potsie came down the stairs, both dressed in suits. He moved to her and kissed her on the cheek. “Wow, great dress.”

“Thank you.”

“Smells good, Mom. Sorry we’re missing out.”

“I’ll save you some, dear. My, don’t you look handsome, Warren,” she gushed, stepping over and dusting lint off his shoulder. 

“Thanks, Mrs. C.” He didn’t look entirely thrilled. This would be his first formal since his attempt. At least the bandages were finally off. 

“Oh but where is Potsie’s date?” Marion asked. 

“I don’t have one,” Potsie announced before anyone could come up with excuses. 

There was a silence then, “good thinking, Warren. That way you can dance with as many girls as you like. Very clever.” She bustled back to the kitchen. 

“We should go. Ralph’s meeting us there with his date.” They said good night and left. 

“I hope this evening goes well for Warren. He’s so much better but he’s not the man he used to be.”

“And this is bad?” Howard said as he sat down to eat. 

At the dance, everyone as coupling up. Everyone except Potsie. He made desultory conversation and rarely smiled. He didn’t dance with any of the girls. He mostly stood against the wall and sipped on punch. 

Later in the evening, Lori Beth wanted to leave and go to Inspiration Point so they went to go. Ralph and his date had already left. Richie stopped and spoke to Potsie. “Are you all right getting home?”

“Yeah.” It was all Potsie said. He watched Richie hesitate then walk off arm in arm with Lori Beth. He waited just long enough to be sure they’d gone then turned and, without a word to anyone, went home. Back to the Cunningham’s. 

“Warren, you’re home early!” Marion exclaimed from the table where she and Howard were playing cards. 

“Yeah, Mrs. C. Sorry if I disturbed your plans.”

“Howard and I were just playing cards.” She put her hand down. “That’s gin, dear.”

Howard threw his hands up in disgust. 

“Where’s Joanie?” Pots asked. 

“Out on a date with Riley Hanson. He’s a very nice boy.”

“Not Chachi?” Potsie wondered. 

“No, they’re on the outs again.” She tidied up since Howard didn’t seem to want to play anymore. “Can I get you something to eat?”

“No, thanks. I’m just going to head upstairs, Mrs. C. Good night.”

“Good night, Warren.”

“Good night Potsie.”

He waved and went to his room. He knew they were talking about him and thought about creeping down to listen but couldn’t bring himself to work up the energy. Instead he gently closed the door to the guest room and took off his suit. He slipped into his pajamas and went to read on the bed, only the small lamp illuminating the room. 

He was sitting there hours later, the house quiet and still. He didn’t sleep much anymore and whiled away the time by reading. He felt smarter than ever before but still so lonely. He was flipping to a new page when he heard a rustling from the window. He turned and watched as the tree outside it shook and then--

“Shhh!” Richie whispered pre-emptively as he slipped in through the window. 

“Why are you sneaking in, Rich?” Potsie had learned how to sound practically like his old self. “And why my window? Is yours locked?”

“Naw, my windows not locked. I wanted to talk to you.”

“You could have come in the front door and up to my room.”

“You might have pretended to be asleep. This way I would catch you unawares.”

Potsie frowned. “What did you want to talk to me about, Richie?”

“Can I sit?” Potsie gestured and Richie sat down. “All right. Well, you know how I told you that I was going to prove myself to you?”

Potsie shrugged. 

“I know you must think that I lied or forgot or something.” No reaction. “I wasn’t. Lying, I mean. And I didn’t forget.” Richie started to get up but made himself sit back down. “I was testing myself. I tried to go back to my life, to be in love with Lori Beth, be normal. I made out with her plenty of times,” he looked up to see Potsie turning away, “um, sorry Pots.” He watched shoulders shrug again. “I wanted to see how I reacted to her after kissing you.”

Potsie remained silent. 

“I figured I’d date her for a month, see what happened and how I felt.” Richie snuck a look. Potsie’s face was blank. “I made a promise with myself to give her a fair shake. Tonight was the final night. And Potsie?” He turned his body so he was looking full on at his friend. “I love her.” If he hadn’t been looking right at him he might have missed Potsie’s wince. “I will probably always love her. But,” Richie moved closer and extended his arm, touching the other man’s knee, “she’s not the one. Not the one I want to be with.” 

Richie waited but there was no response from Potsie. 

“Potsie, this whole month I’ve been practically throwing myself at Lori Beth. But the whole time, I was thinking of you. When we’d hang out, all of us, my eyes would be on you. I’d have to force them back to her.” Scooting a little closer, he leaned in. “I broke up with Lori Beth tonight, Potsie.”

That got a reaction. Potsie looked quizzically at Richie but said nothing. 

“What I’m trying to say,” Richie lifted a hand and touched Potsie’s face, “is I want to be with you.”

“Thanks Richie. You should probably go get some sleep.”

“Potsie!” Richie hurriedly lowered his voice. “I’m trying to tell you I want to be with you and you’re sending me to bed?”

Potsie covered Richie’s hand with his own and then gently removed it. “Yes.” He got up and went to the door and opened it quietly, standing there. 

Richie got up and crossed over to him. “You don’t believe me.”

Potsie didn’t bother to nod. 

“You think I’m going to change my mind. I won’t, you know.”

Potsie just waited, hand on the door. 

Richie shook his head and stepped in close. “I gave my month to Lori Beth, Warren Webber.” He hid the smile at Potsie’s reaction to his real name. “Now I’ll spend a month on you. If, at the end of that month, you don’t want me, then I won’t bother you again. I’ll go find someone else. But if you do want me…,” he left it trailing. 

“Good night, Rich.”

“Good night, Potsie.” Richie leaned in, kissed Potsie’s cheek and sauntered out of the room. 

Potsie stayed stuck at the door for a while then made himself go to bed. He didn’t sleep for a long time. 

“Cunningham,” Fonzie said, bursting in on breakfast, “conference time, now!”

“Arthur, would you like some breakfast?” Marion asked. 

“Thanks Mrs. C, but first I gotta find out what’s wrong with your son here.”

“I’m fine, Fonz. I take it you heard.”

“You bet I heard.”

“Heard what?” Howard asked. 

No one seemed to notice Potsie tense up in his seat. 

Richie simply said, “Lori Beth and I broke up last night.”

“What?” Marion shouted. 

“You did?!” Joanie yelled. 

Howard sat frozen, with his fork halfway through to his mouth. Potsie calmly took a drink of his juice. 

The Fonz snapped his fingers and order was restored. “That’s what I heard. Now tell me why.”

“I just had to end it.”

“Why?”

“Personal reasons.”

“Personal reasons?” Fonzie grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. “Well, as your close, _personal_ friend, I’d like to know these reasons.”

“As your close _personal_ sister I’d like to know them too!” Joanie piped up. 

“Yeah, Shortcake wants to know too.”

“Arthur, really.” Marion bustled forward. “I’m sure Richie had a very good reason for breaking up with his girlfriend.” She turned to him. “Are you sick?” She started to feel his forehead. 

“No, Mom, I’m not sick.” He looked around and knew he had to say something. “Look, I love Lori Beth. She’s a wonderful girl. But she’s not the one for me.”

“Not the one for you? Oh,” Fonzie nodded, “you want to play the field a bit and she wouldn’t let you?”

“No, that’s not it at all, Fonz.” He saw the expectant faces. “Look, I should get to school. Coming, Pots?”

Potsie got up and grabbed his sweater. “Coming, Rich.” 

“Wait, we’re not done here, Red.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Fonz,” Richie said as they walked out the door. 

“Kids today,” Fonz muttered and stole Richie’s toast. 

As Potsie and Richie started walking to school, Potsie spoke up. “You could have said you made a mistake.”

“But that wouldn’t have been true.” 

They walked in silence almost all the way to school but Richie made sure to brush up against Potsie several times. As they neared the campus, he turned to face him. “Meet you at Arnold’s after classes?”

Potsie looked at him for a long minute then nodded. 

“Great! See you then.”


	4. Chapter 4

The news of the break-up spread like wildfire. Theories bounced around and people kept asking both Richie and Lori Beth what happened. Richie announced that though he loved Lori Beth, she wasn’t the one for him. Lori Beth said that Richie had told her he loved her but that there was someone he cared for more. Soon these stories were everywhere. 

At Arnold’s after school, the gang was sitting and talking when Richie walked in. He looked around and didn’t see Potsie. He walked over to Ralph. “Hey, Ralph.”

“Oh hey, Rich.” Ralph looked nervous.

“Seen Potsie?”

“No, he’s not here. Maybe you should make yourself scarce too.”

“Why?” 

Just then Lori Beth and her girlfriends came in. The girls all shot evil glares at Richie, except for Lori Beth, who looked about to cry. 

Richie sat down. “Ah.”

A few seconds later Fonz came in and made a beeline for Richie. “My office, now.”

“Fonz, I can’t--”

“I did say now, Cunningham.”

Richie got up and followed Fonz in, turning around to tell Ralph, “if Potsie comes in tell him where I am?”

They went inside. “All right, Red. You tell me a story. Tell me what happened.”

“You probably already know. Lori Beth and I broke up. I love her but she’s not the one for me.”

“So there is someone else?”

Richie hesitated then said, firmly, “yes.”

“And who, exactly, is this chick?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Fonz reared back. “You can’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry Fonzie. It’s just something I can’t tell you about. Besides, I’m still kind of trying to win them over.”

“Let me get this straight. You broke up with your girl for someone you’re not sure wants to be with ya?”

“Oh they want to be with me. I know they do. It’s just a matter of convincing them that I want to be with them.”

Fonz rubbed his face. “You’re giving me a headache, Cunningham.”

“Sorry, Fonz. Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m all right. Lori Beth and I will be fine, eventually. She needs time. But right now I have to get back out there.”

Fonz watched Richie walk out. 

Potsie had come in a few minutes ago and seen that Richie wasn’t there. He had been about to turn around when Ralph called out to him. He had thought about not responding but something made him go over. 

“Hey, Ralph.”

“Pots, have you heard? It’s everywhere.”

“I know.”

“Fonz has Richie in his office, doing God knows what.”

“Richie’s in with Fonzie?” Potsie didn’t know why he felt so relieved. He sat down and snuck a fry, knowing it was expected. 

“Yeah. I hope Fonz is straightening him out. Letting a girl like Lori Beth go. Man’s got to be crazy.”

Potsie tried to work up a smile. “Crazy,” he echoed, then flinched as the door to the men’s opened and Richie and Fonz came out. He saw Richie look around and then his eyes light on him. A smile started to bloom but was shut down. 

“Hey Pots.” Richie clapped his shoulder and sat down beside him, skooching in like there was no room, until he was pressed against him. 

“Hey Rich.” Potsie was about to wriggle away but a hand on his leg stopped him. 

Talk was all about the break up but Richie seemed to be devoting most of his time to driving Potsie crazy under the table. At last Potsie couldn’t take it anymore and got up, saying he had to get home. 

“I’ll head home too. See ya Ralph. Bye Fonz.”

They walked home in virtual silence, where they faced interrogation again about what had transpired. 

It went on like that for days. Richie calmed people down and appeared to be recovering while all the while subtly wooing Potsie. In public it was just more touching and making sure to maintain eye contact and pay attention--not that Potsie talked a lot anymore. 

In private, which wasn’t often, it was much the same thing with a bit more attentiveness. 

At times Potsie would find little presents in his locker or his room and knew they came from Richie. Watching Ed Sullivan one night with the family, Richie gave Potsie the last of his popcorn. Gestures like that became common place. 

It was two weeks later when Lori Beth showed up at the house one evening. She and Richie had a long talk--with Joanie trying to eavesdrop--and when she left they hugged. 

“Potsie?”

“Come in.” Potsie watched his friend shuffle in and gestured. “Sit down, Rich. How’d it go?”

“Good. We’ve decided to be friends. She’s going to get her friends to stop calling me names.”

Potsie couldn’t help but smile a little. “You could get back with her, you know?”

“I know.” Richie sat on the bed, right up close to Pots. “But I told you, I want to be with you. Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

Potsie shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Meet me at Old Lady Simpson’s house at 7, okay?”

“Why there?”

“Just trust me. Will you meet me?”

Potsie cocked his head. “I guess.”

“Great!” Richie got up, then stepped back, leaned down and pecked Pots’ cheek. He left an amused Potsie holding his cheek on the bed. 

The next night Potsie found himself standing outside Old Lady Simpson’s house right at 7. He let himself in. 

“Rich?”

“Upstairs.”

Potsie climbed up and stopped at the top of the landing. “Rich?” he asked again. 

“Last door on the right.”

When the door swung open, Potsie’s mouth fell open. Richie Cunningham, dressed in a suit, was sitting at a small table. On the table was a meal and drinks and a white table cloth with lit candles. There was a small radio playing soft music somewhere in the room. A beautiful red rose was the center piece of it all. 

“Wha--what is all this?” Potsie stammered. 

Getting up, Richie approached him. “I know we can’t go out to eat and have a date like normal couples can. So I had to think up the next best thing. No one comes here because of it being ‘haunted’, and I knew we’d have privacy. I got the table and stuff from Arnold’s and Mom made the food. I wanted us to have a real date,” he finished. 

“You could have told me. I would have dressed nice.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He waited then had to ask, “do you like it?”

“Yes,” Potsie found himself admitting. 

“Well, come sit down.” Richie held out the chair. 

Potsie smiled, “I’m not actually a girl, you know, Rich.”

“I know. I guess that’s just how I’m used to acting on a date.”

“Let’s just be us.”

“Right.” 

They sat and began to eat, awkward silence filling the air. Then Potsie began to laugh, which set Richie off. When they had stopped they just started talking like normal. Soon the food was gone, they were sipping their drinks and enjoying their time together. A slow song came on and Richie looked at the radio. 

“Would you like to dance?”

“Yes?” He coughed. “I mean, yes, Richie I would.”

They got up and went to the middle of the floor and had a few clumsy moments while they tried to figure things out. Then Potsie just put his arms around Richie, who reciprocated. They leaned in against each other, swaying to the music. As the song came to an end another started and they kept swaying. Time passed and Potsie looked up from where his head had been resting on Richie’s shoulder. 

“This was great, Rich.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” 

The candles had burned low and it was time to go home. Richie told Potsie to leave everything, that he would come back tomorrow to get it all. They blew out the candles, gathered things up and got ready to go. They were at the door when Richie said, “wait!”

Potsie turned and watched his friend step close. 

“I can’t give you a good bye kiss at the door like I would for most dates.” Richie licked his lips. “So I’ll have to give it to you here.” He stepped right into Potsie’s space and brought up both hands to cup his face, pulling him down for a kiss. It went on and on then Richie finally broke it off. “Good night, Pots.”

“Good night, Rich.” Dazed, the two men walked out and home. 

The dates at Old Lady Simpson’s became a regular thing. Every Friday night they would both say they had a date--but never say with whom--and they would meet up there. Richie arranged to ‘permanently’ borrow the table and things he needed. Marion was always happy to make supper for him. Although he did, occasionally, find other ways to provide the food. 

They would eat and talk, dance to the radio, then kiss good night and head home. On the fourth week, Richie pulled away from the dancing. “Potsie?”

“Hmmm?”

“The month is over now.”

It took a minute for Potsie to realize what Richie was talking about. When he did, he went rigid and stepped away, face going blank. 

Heart hurting but determined, Richie said, “I’ve made a decision.”

Potsie stayed silent. 

“I’ve decided I want to keep dating you.”

At first there was no reaction. Then Potsie’s eyes got wide and he lifted his head. “What?”

“I want to keep dating you.” Richie came close and pulled Potsie into his arms. “In fact, I want us to go steady.”

Potsie lost his breath. “S-s-s-steady?”

“Yes, Potsie,” Richie leaned up and kissed him.

“There hasn’t been anyone else for me,” Potsie blurted out. 

“For me either. I guess I’m saying I want it to be like that from now on.”

Potsie nodded, vigorously. Then he sobered and stepped back. “Richie, this is crazy! We’re men!”

“I know.”

“Men don’t date.”

“I know.”

“If our friends find out--!”

“I know, I know, I know.”

“Then why?” Potsie looked imploringly at him, obviously wanting to believe but not daring to. “I mean, just because you feel sorry for me or something? Cause if that’s the case, then--” he made a cutting gesture with his hand. 

“That’s not it. I told you.” Richie caught his hand and brought it up to his face, nuzzling into the palm. “Potsie, this past month has been wonderful. You’re my friend, we can talk about anything together. Girls, sports, books. I never knew you were so smart.” He flushed a little.

“Had a lot of time to read lately,” Potsie mumbled. 

Richie continued, “we have a great time.”

“Means we’re friends, Rich.”

“But then there’s the other stuff. The kissing and stuff. Do you like it?”

“Course.” Potsie didn’t dare to ask. 

“I like it too.”

“Anyone would like kissing. It feels good.”

“It does. And with Lori Beth,” he watched Potsie turn away, “it was good. Could even be amazing. But with you, Potsie,” he watched shoulders slump, “it’s fantastic.”

It took a moment for it to sink in. “Fantastic?”

“Yeah. You’re a heck of a kisser, Pots. On Friday nights I go home and,” Richie blushed redder than his hair, “um, well, I dream about you.”

“You do?” Potsie came closer. “What happens?”

“We don’t say good night.”

“Yeah?”

“We keep going.”

“More kissing?”

“And touching and then we lie down on some blankets--don’t ask where they came from, I don’t know--and then…”

“And then?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done lying down things with a guy. Heck, I’ve never really done lying down things with anybody.”

“Me neither. But it sounds nice, Rich.”

“It is nice. And,” Richie gulped, “I wouldn’t mind doing it outside my dreams.”

Potsie crossed over to him. “If we’re gonna do this, Richie, you have to be sure. I don’t think I could take it--no,” he interrupted himself, “I **know** I couldn’t take it if you changed your mind.”

Richie closed his eyes and then opened them up again. “I won’t.” Lifting a hand to Potsie chest, he kissed him. The kiss quickly grew heated, their arms around each other, bodies pulling in close. “Potsie…”

“Richie, we can’t.” Potsie leaned in for another kiss. 

“I told you I wo--”

“No. I mean, your folks are expecting us home soon.”

“Oh.” Richie tried to think but Potsie was pressing little kisses to his face. “I’ve got an idea. We’ll go home, wait until everyone is asleep and come back here later. Yeah,” he said to himself, “that’s good. That’ll give me time to grab some blankets and stuff.”

Potsie lifted his head. “What if we get caught?”

Richie kissed him again. “It’d be worth it.”

Potsie shivered. “All right.” They kissed a few more times then did their usual routine, this time skipping the kiss good night. After stopping to talk to the Cunningham’s, Potsie went upstairs. He sat on his bed and read, waiting for the house to quiet down. He wondered if Richie was going to change his mind and thought perhaps he shouldn’t go. Then his door creaked open. 

“Pots?”

“Rich?”

“Let’s go.” 

Potsie followed Richie out of the house, both men carrying blankets. They went back to the house and back upstairs. Richie relit two of the candles--they had gotten more over the weeks--and spread his blanket down. Potsie followed suit. They stood there in the candlelight. 

“Last chance to back down, Rich,” Potsie said, trying to give his friend a way out. 

“I don’t want to. You never did answer me before, you know.”

“What? Answered what?”

“If you want to go steady?”

Potsie scoffed. “Of course I want to go steady with you. There isn’t anybody else for me, Rich.” He stopped as he saw the smile bloom over Rich’s face. 

“That makes me very happy, Potsie. C’mere.”

They kissed. Their feet shuffled until they backed up to the corner where the blankets were. They half fell on them. 

“Oof!”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

They resumed kissing. Richie ran his hands through Potsie hair, something he secretly loved to do. 

“You weren’t the only one dreaming of more, Rich.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can I show you some of what I dreamed about?”

Richie shivered. “All right.”


	5. Chapter 5

Potsie kissed his boyfriend’s neck, moving down it slowly. When he reached his collar, he pulled the shirt down and licked the skin underneath. He heard the loud gasp from above him. One by one he popped the buttons on Richie’s shirt then slid the material open, fingers skating over bare skin. 

“So soft,” Potsie murmured. 

“Oh God,” Richie gasped out. No one had ever touched him on the chest like this. Not Lori Beth, not any girl. It felt so good. It felt even better when, a few seconds later, Potsie flicked his fingers over the nipples. 

Seeing how Richie was squirming, but not complaining, Potsie went further. He leaned down and licked a stripe down Richie’s chest. 

“Potsie!” 

“Sshhh! Not so loud.”

“Sorry, sorry. Do that again.”

“What? This?” Potsie bent his head and did it again, a smile on his face. He felt Richie’s hands tangle in his hair--something he secretly loved--and continued licking at the salty skin. Then, curious, he moved his mouth to the right nipple and kissed it. The hands clenched and then let go. He lapped at it with his tongue. 

“Oh Potsie! Wow!”

Liking that reaction, Pots moved his mouth over to the other one and copied what he had done. This time he got incoherent noises, which was even better. His head was dragged back up and Richie assaulted his mouth, leaving their lips red and swollen. 

“You’re beautiful,” Richie whispered up at him. Potsie cut his eyes down and away. Richie took hold of his face and made him focus back on his eyes. “I’m serious. You’re _beautiful_. I am clearly an idiot for not seeing it before.” Seeing that he wasn’t convinced, Richie knew he’d have to work on that. Meanwhile, he pulled Potsie’s face back down and kissed him with a passion. 

Potsie was trying to keep his weight off Richie but he got so involved with the kiss he ended up lying on top of him and their groins met. Their hardening erections touched through two pairs of jeans and Richie shifted his hips. They kept kissing, bodies touching, hands roving all over. 

Richie got a wicked glint in his eye and abruptly rolled them over so he was on top. He chuckled at the look on Potsie’s face and then reached down to pull up his shirt. Soon it was discarded and Richie was copying his friend’s actions from before. He never knew how excited a guy could get over having his chest kissed. Now that he did know, he wanted to drive Potsie that crazy. 

He was succeeding. Potsie couldn’t take it anymore and rolled them back over so he was on top again. He hesitated, then reached his hand down and stroked it over the bulge in Richie’s pants. 

“Pots!” 

Potsie continued fondling him, the other hand working Richie’s pants open. They he slid the hand that had been caressing inside and touched bare skin. 

Richie went absolutely still. No sound, no movement, no nothing. 

Potsie froze as well, horrified that he’d done something wrong, gone too far. Finally he gulped and whispered, “Rich?”

Richie’s hand came down and covered Potsie’s and for a moment, Potsie thought he was going to pull them both away. He thought it was over. He should have known it was all going to come crashing down, he should have known that--

“Rich?” he asked again, this time even more puzzled. 

For Richie was not pulling his hand away. He was simply holding on. Almost squeezing. 

“Rich, you’re scaring me.”

“Potsie,” Richie gasped, “I’m trying not to…you know. When you touched me it was like a live wire and I almost went off, right then.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. So give me a minute or I’m going to embarrass myself.”

“It feels good?” Potsie couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He knew it felt good when he did it on himself but this was different. 

“It feels incredible. Your hand is so warm,” Richie said, wonder in his voice. “I know it should be like having my own hand on me but it’s so much better.” He looked at his steady. “I--can I--?”

Potsie seemed to understand what he was saying. With his free hand he undid his own jeans. Richie slipped his hand in and wrapped his hand around the hard flesh. They both moaned. “It is warm,” Potsie marveled. 

They lay there, simply holding each other, taking pleasure in this plain act. Then Potsie licked his lips and moved his hand, the one around Richie. He heard a loud intake of breath but no protest so he did it again. And kept doing it, Richie’s hand over his keeping time. After a few moments, Potsie looked up at his boyfriend. “Rich?”

Richie let go of the Potsie’s hand and cupped his face, pulling him up for a kiss. As they kissed, he rolled them on their sides and then gave a stroke of his own on Potsie. 

“Together?”

“Together.”

Their hands working in tandem, resuming their kiss, they worked their flesh. When Potsie felt close, he pulled away from Richie’s luscious mouth and went to speak, but Richie simply claimed his mouth again with a muttered “now”. 

A few seconds later Potsie tensed and came. As he rode the waves of exultation he felt Richie spurting in his hand as well. Potsie ended up with his face in the crook of Richie’s neck, breathing hard. Realizing his hand was still down Richie’s pants, Potsie let go and pulled free. Richie followed suit. 

Potsie risked a look at Richie. He smiled at the blissed out look on his face. He knew he had a similar smile on his own. He watched hazy eyes open and fix on him. Richie scooted a little and Potsie leaned in, their mouths meeting in a lazy kiss. 

“We should get cleaned up.”

“Not yet,” Richie protested. “Let’s just stay like this for a bit longer.”

“We can’t fall asleep here.”

“I know. Just for a bit. Please?”

Knowing he couldn’t deny Richie anything, Potsie cuddled down and drew the red head close. They stayed there, wallowing in peace, for at least half an hour. They reluctantly got up and cleaned up, dressed and headed out. They snuck back to the house and climbed into Potsie window. 

“Coast is clear,” Potsie whispered as he cracked open the door. 

Richie touched his arm. “Night Potsie.” He brushed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Good night, Rich.” After letting Richie out he went to get properly cleaned up then settled back on the bed. His thoughts were racing, his heart soaring with possible hope and his brain screaming at him for being stupid and thinking it would work out. He was still trying to reconcile it all when he fell asleep. 

“You boys are being awfully quiet,” Marion remarked at Richie and Potsie the next morning at breakfast. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” Richie tried to stop stealing glances at Potsie. “No, Mom. Everything’s fine. Just perfect, in fact.”

Potsie blushed and looked down at his waffles. 

“I see. Well, what are you boys up to today?”

“There’s a baseball game this afternoon,” Richie seemed to asking Potsie.

“Sounds good,” came the reply. 

“Good.” Richie beamed again. “Really good.”

“What’s really good?” Howard said as he came in from outside. 

“Nothing Dad. Um, about finished Pots?

Potsie swallowed. “Yeah.” They made smoky eye contact and stood together. 

“We’re gonna head out.”

“Before you go do whatever it is you’re going to do, I need you boys to help with the yard work.”

“But Dad--!” 

“It’s okay, Rich,” Potsie said quietly. “We can help you, Mr. C.”

“We can? Um, sure, I guess.”

They were outside picking up sticks in the autumn wind when Richie had to ask, “Why are we doing this again?”

Potsie looked at him. “I guess I’m feeling guilty for sneaking out last night and thought we should do something nice.”

Very carefully not looking at him, Richie asked. “Do you feel guilty for anything else? Or, um, you know, sorry for anything?”

Potsie looked at him and then smiled, knowing Richie couldn’t see. “Well, there is one thing I’m sorry about.”

“What‘s that?” Richie sounded curious and dejected. 

“I’m sorry I can’t kiss you right now to show you I don’t regret a thing that happened last night.”

“If that’s how you fe--” Richie stopped, looked at Potsie grinning and shoved him. “Potsie!” 

They laughed and wanted to kiss but instead went about the chores. 

_A few months later_

“Cunningham!”

“Yeah, Fonz?”

“In my office.”

Richie looked away from Potsie--and Ralph, for cover, but mostly Potsie--and got up. “Coming Fonz.”

Inside, Fonz asked, “Are we not friends, Red?”

“We are, Fonz. We’re friends.”

“You tell me things?”

“Yes.”

“I tell you things?”

“Yes.”

“And friends help each other out, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Well, I need you to help me out.”

“Sure, Fonzie. What do you need?”

“I need you to break your Friday date and come with me that night.”

Richie stopped. “What?” 

“I was told, by a very reliable source, that there are strange noises coming from Old Lady Simpson’s house. Usually on Friday nights.”

Richie gulped. 

“So you’re going to come with me to check it out. Now, I know Friday night is when you meet your girl--who you still have not told me about,” Fonz frowned, “but this is me asking here.”

Richie nodded. “All right. Um, maybe we should bring Potsie and Ralph?”

“Those two chickens?”

“They could be extra eyes.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Fonzie walked out of the bathroom and back to the table. “You two, Old Lady Simpson’s, Friday, be there.” He snapped his fingers and several girls appeared as he walked out. 

Potsie turned to stare at Richie coming over. “What’s that all about?” he tried to sound casual. 

Richie explained. 

Ralph squeaked. “No way am I going back there again. Not even for Fonz.” He saw the looks. “Okay, for Fonz. Safety in numbers I guess.”

They agreed to meet up with Fonz later. Then Potsie and Richie said they had to get home. As soon as they were clear Potsie turned to Richie. “Do you think people know about us?”

“No. Fonz said that he just heard there were strange noises coming from there. And someone asked him to check it out. We’ll go and find nothing and it’s forgotten.” 

“You think?”

“I’ll clear the stuff out tomorrow after school. It will be just like we found it. And no noises.”

Potsie couldn’t help but smile. “You do tend to get loud when I--”

Richie slapped a hand over his mouth. Smiling, they went on their way. 

Friday night came and the friends met in front of the building. Chachi was also there. “Hey, fellas. Fonz invited me too.”

“The more the merrier,” Richie quipped and held up a flashlight. “Well, let’s do this.”

“Aren’t you afraid, Richie?” Chachi asked. 

“No. Takes a lot more than an empty building to scare me.”

They went in, looked in every room and found nothing. Richie had done a thorough job of making sure everything was either gone or hidden. When they were done, Fonzie shrugged. “Guess it was a false alarm. I’ll tell Mrs. Kopecnik that she needs to get her hearing checked.”

Potsie tried not to be too visible in his relief, same as Richie. They walked out and said their goodbyes. They waited on the sidewalk for Fonzie and Chachi to disappear then Richie gestured and they went back inside. 

“Looks different.” They were back in ‘their’ room.

“Yeah.” They’d been coming here, Friday night like clockwork for months, and had made it their little love nest. “Wanna fix it back up?”

“Fonzie--”

“He’s gone,” Richie pshawed. 

Potsie smiled. “Yeah.” They went around the room, putting things back, setting things up again--at least what was still in the house. “Hey, I know there’s no food but we can still have our date.”

Richie smiled and went to pull something out from behind a corner. It was their transistor radio. Potsie smiled as Richie turned it on. Then he held out his hand and they ended up together, swaying to the music. He had just bent down and pressed his lips to Rich’s when the door banged open. Startled, they both froze as they were, arms around each other. 

“Fonz!”

“Whoa!” Fonzie held a hand over his eyes then lowered it. “What, exactly, is goin’ on here?”

“F-f-f-fonz, I can explain!” Richie stammered and then happened to glance at Potsie, who had let him go. When he saw the expression on his boyfriend’s face he stopped, his mouth becoming a line. He took a deep breath and turned back to his friend. “Fonz, you better come in.”

Fonzie entered the room warily, shooting Potsie a look. “Is this like the time that you both dressed up as girls?”

“No.” Richie was still going all the talking. “Fonzie, all those noises you heard from here? They were us. We’ve been coming here for months. Dating here for months,” he clarified. 

“Why didn’t you say so, Red?” Fonzie’s face cleared. He looked around. “Where’d you stash the girls?”

“No, Fonz, no girls. Just us.”

“Just you?” Richie nodded. “No girls?” Another nod. “You and Potsie?” A third nod. “You and Potsie. You and _Potsie_? _You and Potsie?!_ ” 

Fonzie started to breath hard and bend over. Richie rushed to his side and clapped him on the back. “Breathe, Fonz, breathe!”

Fonz stood suddenly and held his hands up. “I’m cool.” He looked at them both. “Explain.”

Richie looked at Potsie, who was still turned away and not speaking. “You remember when Potsie hurt himself?”

“Don’t sugarcoat it, Rich,” Potsie finally spoke. “I tried to kill myself.”

“Course I do, Red. It was a fairly significant thing to happen.”

“Right. Well,” Richie chose his words carefully, “after that I started seeing Potsie differently.”

“What? As a woman?”

“No. As someone I could love.” Richie stepped over and put his arm around Potsie. 

“That’s why you broke up with Lori Beth?”

“Yes. Potsie and I started dating. He’s the one I see on Fridays.”

“Always wondered about that,” Fonzie mused. 

“We have to meet here because, well, you know. Anyway,” Richie peered at him, “you won’t tell, will you Fonz?”

“Tell?”

“Yeah,” Potsie put in, his voice bitter, “you won’t tell anyone that Richie’s sleeping with me.”

“Potsie!”

Potsie turned away and said, “Forget it, Rich. There’s nothing to tell. Cause we’re over.” He ran from the room. 

“Potsie!” 

“Maybe it’s for the best, Richie.”


	6. Chapter 6

Richie whirled and jabbed out his finger. “How dare you say that? That man is the best thing that ever happened to me. He’s my friend and I love him so much it feels like it’ll burst out of me sometimes. I can’t be with him or even hold his hand or take him to Inspiration Point and it kills me every _single_ day. This was our place. Our ‘Inspiration Point’. And you’ve ruined it, Bucko!” Richie looked like he was going to say something else but instead he swiveled to run out. 

Fonzie snapped his fingers. “Ay, no you don’t.”

“I gotta find him, Fonz,” Richie said, not looking back. “He might try to…”

“Webber will be fine for a few minutes.” Fonzie came around and stepped in front of him. “First let’s get a few things straight.”

“Fonz--”

“I _have never_ and _will never_ stand in the way of true love. I don’t care if it’s girl/boy, boy/boy or girl/girl. If it’s love and it’s real then it’s great. Second, I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me this whole time. I thought we was friends, Rich. That hurts.” He held his hand over his heart. “Third, you wanted to find a secret place to date and this was the best you could do?” He smiled and Richie couldn’t help but smile too. “And finally, Potsie? Really?”

“He’s really amazing, Fonz. Sweet and smart--”

“ _Potsie_?”

“And smart,” Richie said again, “funny and romantic and--”

“All right, all right, I don’t need the laundry list.” Fonz ran a hand over his face. “Potsie? Our Potsie?”

“Yes, Fonz. Our Potsie.”

Fonzie shrugged. “All right. If you think he’s that good he must be terrific. After all, Red, you’re a pretty good judge of character.”

“I like to think so.”

“So go get your man. And Richie?”

“Yes, Fonz?”

“Tell him I would never tell anyone unless you guys cleared it first.”

“I know. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

They looked at each other and then Fonz pointed. “Go on, get out of here.”

Richie took off. He had a pretty good idea of where Potsie had gone. 

“Potsie?”

“Did you make up with Fonz?” Potsie called down from the tree house. 

“Yeah. He’s gonna keep our secret.”

“No secret to tell. Not anymore.”

Richie had been climbing up and now he scrambled in, sitting by Potsie forlorn heap. “I’m not letting you go that easy, Potsie Webber.”

Potsie’s head came up. There were no tears on his face but there was an expression of abject misery there. Immediately Richie took him in his arms. They held each other tight and when Richie made to move away Potsie clung to him. “Don’t let me go,” he mumbled. 

“Never.” They sat there for who knew how long and then finally Potsie pulled away. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. It was pretty startling.”

“I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“Potsie,” Richie reached up and cupped his face, “I understand.”

“I’ve never had anything good that didn’t get taken away. And you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Richie. Both as a friend and as more.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“But tonight just proved how dangerous--”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated more vehemently. “I told Fonz that too.”

“What’d he say?”

“That I should come after you. And not let you go.”

Potsie smiled and now tears did spill. They came together again and they kissed. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

“For what?”

“For running away like a child.”

“You’re no child,” Richie smiled and kissed him again. “And as long as I can catch up with you, it’s be all right.”

Potsie knew that he was referring to his suicide attempt and nodded. “Okay.” He squirmed. “My butt’s asleep, can we go home?”

Richie laughed and they headed down the ladder. 

_Several weeks later_

“So Richie, are we going to get to meet this mystery woman of yours at the Valentine’s Day dance?”

Both Richie and Potsie looked up from their Arnold burgers at Ralph. “Um, no,” Richie stammered. 

“Why not? You’ve been going with this girl for months now and none of us have met her. And the dance is on Friday night.”

Before Richie could even try to come up with something, Fonzie walked in. 

“Fonz! Hey, over here,” Ralph half stood up and tried to get his attention. 

Fonzie came sauntering over. “Whatever it is, make it snappy. I have to go ask my Valentine dates what color corsages they want.”

“Dates? As in plural?” Richie asked. 

“Yeah. I was just going to pick one girl but ayyyy,” he spread his hands out, “how can I deny any girl this? So I’m sharing myself with the ladies. It’s my Valentine’s Day gift to them.”

All the guys laughed. They were about to speak when Chachi came in as well. 

“Richie! I need to talk to you.”

“What is it, Chachi?”

“I finally got Joanie to agree to be my Valentine date. I’m taking her to an expensive restaurant for dinner and then we’re going to a movie. There’s just one problem.”

“You don’t have the money?”

“No. I have it. Fonz loaned it to me.”

“I just wanted to be sure that Shortcake got the best for Valentine’s Day.”

“Then what do you need, Chachi?”

“I need a car. I don’t want to take her in the tow truck. Fonz said I could borrow his bike but we’re going to be dressed up nice. Is there any way I can borrow your car, Richie? Please?” 

“Yes, you can borrow my car. I’m not going anywhere on Valentine’s Day.”

“You’re not going to the dance?”

“No.” Richie did not look at Potsie. “I’m staying home. My…usual date seems unavailable for that night.”

“Oh what rotten luck! Well, thanks Rich. I’ll be at the house that evening to get the car, all right?”

They waved goodbye to Chachi then turned back to the trouble of Richie’s love life. Potsie barely spoke a word throughout it but that was typical of him lately. He’d been very quiet this past week or so. Finally the group broke up; Potsie and Richie headed back to the Cunningham’s. 

The week passed quickly, everyone in a flurry of Valentine’s Day plans. Arnold’s was decorated with red and white everywhere. Couples were seen all over town cuddling. More girls than ever swooned around Fonzie. And Ralph began acting a little strange. 

“What’s up with you, Ralphie?” Richie asked one day on the way to class. 

“Are you really not going to the dance, Rich?”

“I’m really not.”

“I figured you’d see us there and that would let the cat out of the bag but since you’re not going,” Ralph paused and tugged on Richie’s arm, stopping them. Potsie was in his English Lit class so he wasn’t with them. “It’s about my date, Rich.”

“What about her? Did you land one of the Pelucci twins?”

“No.” Ralph gulped. “It’s Lori Beth.” He ducked and put his hands over his head. 

“Lori Beth?”

“Yes. We’ve been spending a lot of time together. We started after you broke up, mostly talking about you. But now we’re kind of,” Ralph gulped, “dating? And I asked her to the dance.” He peeked out. “Are you gonna kill me?”

“Why would I kill you? Lori Beth and I have been over for a long time. If you and she are happy then I’m happy for the both of you.”

Ralph waited then stood all the way back up. “Really? You mean it?”

“I mean it.” Richie clapped a hand on his shoulder. “In fact this is great news. She’s a wonderful girl and you’re a great guy. You make a nice couple.”

“Thanks Rich.” Ralph was clearly happy but a bit befuddled. “I’m glad you’re taking it so well.”

Richie smiled. “You guys will have a lot of fun at the dance.”

“We will now that we know you’re okay with it. I still wish you’d come though.” 

After school everyone was getting ready for their big nights. Howard and Marion were going to a special dinner at the Leopard Lodge. Joanie had her date with Chachi. Richie and Potsie were staying home. At least Richie assumed Pots was staying home. They hadn’t talked a whole lot lately. In fact, Richie had hardly seen Potsie this week. He was musing on it when Chachi came knocking. 

“Hey, Chachi, come on in.” Everyone was in the living room except Joanie. 

“Hi, Mrs. C. You look great. And Mr. C. Hey Richie, Pots.” Chachi was dressed in a sharp looking suit, his hair neat and combed. 

“Here are the keys,” Richie said, handing them over. “Be careful with her, all right?”

“As careful as if she were my own.”

“I think you should be as careful with her as if she were Fonzie’s,” Potsie quipped from the couch. 

Everyone laughed and Chachi promised he’d do that. Then Joanie came downstairs wearing a lovely evening dress. Everyone admired her and she wished them all good night and walked out, arm in arm with Chachi. Fonzie had already left earlier. 

“If you should change your minds and go to the dance, just go right ahead,” Marion said, grabbing her wrap. “Good night, boys.”

Both men said good night and then watched the door closed. Silence fell. 

“So,” Richie said, clapping his hands together, “what now?”

“I think I’m going to head up to my room and do some studying,” Potsie said, getting up. 

“Studying? But we’ve got the whole house to ourselves for at least 3 hours!”

“Exactly. I’ll see you later, Rich.” With that Potsie walked away. 

Richie sat down on the couch and huffed. Maybe Potsie was tired of him? Maybe it was that Valentine’s Day was kind of a girlie holiday and neither of them were girls? He was still thinking about it when there was a knock on the door. He got up absent-mindedly to answer it. 

It was a kid, about 10 years old.

“You Richie Cunningham?”

“Yes?”

“Some guy paid me $2 to make sure you got this Valentine’s Day night,” he said, handing over an envelope. “There you go.” The kid took off. 

Richie looked after him then down at the envelope, closing the door. He pondered the plain white card for a moment then opened it. Inside was a simple Valentine’s Day card. It read--

_Come and find me, I beg you please  
But not in the place among the trees.  
Our usual spot, our meeting place,  
Is where you’ll find me and see my face._

Richie would recognize that handwriting anywhere. “Potsie, what are you up to?” He went upstairs and knocked on his door. No answer. He pushed it open and was surprised to find no one in the room. “Pots?” No answer. Puzzled, he looked back down at the card. 

Soon he was standing in front of Old Lady Simpson’s house. There was no sign of Potsie. He went in and headed toward their usual little room. On the door there was another card. He opened it.

_Before you enter and meet me there,_  
Some garments I’d like for you to wear.  
Turn to the right and down the hall,  
You’ll find them there or not at all.  
Please put them on and come back quick,  
Then enter the room and light the wick.

Richie smiled, shaking his head in loving exasperation and went down to change. It was a nice suit and he changed quickly. Then he went back and opened the door. He gaped. The room inside had been transformed. The room was festooned with flowers. There were already several candles burning but one was sitting, with matches by it, on their table. He crossed over there and then lit it. 

“Richie.”

He turned and saw Potsie, also dressed up, standing by the far wall. He stepped out of the shadows and Richie began moving toward him, only to be stopped by a hand held up, palm up. 

“Wait. Sit down, please.”

Richie backed up and sat down at his usual chair. He watched Potsie cross and pull out--a record player? 

Potsie turned back to him as the record began to play. He sang with the record, changing the lyrics slightly. 

**Hey, Venus  
Oh, Venus**

**Venus, if you will  
Please send a lovely boy for me to thrill  
A guy who wants my kisses and my arms  
A guy with all the charms of you**

**Venus, make him fair  
A lovely guy with sunset in his hair  
And take the brightest stars up in the skies  
And place them in his eyes for me**

**Venus, goddess of love that you are  
Surely the things I ask  
Can't be too great a task**

**Venus, if you do  
I promise that I always will be true  
I'll give him all the love I have to give  
As long as we both shall live**

**Venus, goddess of love that you are  
Surely the things I ask  
Can't be too great a task**

**Venus if you do  
I promise that I always will be true  
I'll give him all the love I have to give  
As long as we both shall live**

**Hey, Venus  
Oh, Venus  
Make my wish come true**

The song faded into silence and the arm of the record player retracted. They both stayed exactly where they were until Richie couldn’t take it and threw himself across the room into Potsie’s arms. 

“Oh Potsie!” he cried and their mouths met in a passionate kiss. They clung to each other for what seemed like ages then Potsie gingerly pulled back. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Richie,” he said with a smile. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, indeed. Boy, you had me fooled!”

Potsie’s smile got even bigger. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. But first,” he gestured back to the table, “let’s eat.”

Richie sat and Potsie pulled out a cooler and a picnic hamper and began to remove food. All of Richie’s favorite’s, even including an ice cream sundae for dessert. With two spoons. 

“Potsie,” Richie was flabbergasted, “how did you do all this?”

“Fonzie. He helped out a lot. I thought of this a couple of weeks ago. So I went to him,” Potsie explained as they dug in. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were planning this?”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.”

They both laughed. “True.” 

Potsie reached across the table and took his steady’s hand. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it.” He marveled. “It’s fantastic, Pots. Just like you.”

Potsie blushed. “The hardest part was keeping it from you. I thought for sure you would want to go to the dance. Or that you’d go without me.”

“Never. I thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Potsie tilted his head up. 

“Maybe you were getting tired of me?”

Potsie let out a soft laugh. “Never, Richie. Like the song said ‘I always will be true’.”

“I love your singing voice,” Richie confessed. 

“My own personal groupie,” Potsie teased. They both laughed and went back to the melting ice cream. Luckily, they had installed a battery powered space heater--filched from the hardware store--months ago. When the food was finished Potsie packed the dishes back up and then stood. He went and turned the radio back on and held out his hand. As “Will you still love me tomorrow?” by the Shirelles began playing, the two men swayed in the center of the candlelit room.


	7. Chapter 7

Potsie had never felt so peaceful nor so happy. “Richie?”

Richie didn’t even raise his head as he replied in a dreamy voice, “mmmm?”

“I love you.”

“That’s good,” came the reply in that same tone. “Cause I love you too.” Potsie stopped swaying and it took a moment for Richie to realize that. He looked up. “Potsie?”

“What did you say?”

Now Richie understood. He put his hands up on both of Potsie’s cheeks and drew their faces together. Breath mingling, Richie repeated, “I love you.”

“I--I---,” Potsie stammered. “I never thought you’d say that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.” He leaned up and brushed his lips against that gaping mouth. He stayed there, lips close and was startled when he felt wetness on his face. He pulled back and found tears making tracks down the other man’s face. “Potsie?”

Potsie sniffed. “I didn’t know. That it could be like this, I mean.”

“That what could be like this?” Richie asked softly. 

“Life. Love. I didn’t know it could be this happy.”

Touched, Richie wrapped his arms around his love and pulled him close, their lips skimming briefly. They stayed there for a while, lost in each other. Potsie pulled back and ran his hands over Richie’s arms. 

“I wish we were somewhere nice, that I could treat you like you should be treated.”

“You do. Though a bed would be nice.”

“It would be,” Potsie agreed. “I’d pick you up and carry you to it.”

“Hey, who says I’m the girl?” Richie laughed. 

“I’m bigger.”

“Not by much!”

“When we got to that bed, Richie? I’d like to keep you there all night long, making love to you. But I think the best thing would be to wake up with you. To open my eyes and see you in my arms and know it’s not a dream.” Potsie’s eyes were far away, with a hint of sadness. “That would be beyond perfection.”

“Sounds like a perfect night. Actually it sounds like a wedding night,” he chuckled. 

“It does, doesn’t it?“ Potsie paused then, “Rich?”

“Hmmm?”

“If we could, if it were legal and allowed. I’d be on my knee with a ring doing this right.”

Richie felt like his breath had been taken away. “Really?” He squeaked out then cleared his throat. “I mean, really?”

“I’d marry you in an instant, Richard Cunningham, if I could. Where else am I going to find someone who feels this way about me?”

Setting the latter half of that aside for later discussion, Richie smiled. “I’d marry you too, Potsie.” He saw the surprise there. “I told you, I love you. And ‘as long as we both shall live’ sounds a lot like ‘til death do us part’ to me.”

Overwhelmed, Potsie could only clasp his lover to him and hold on tight. They pressed fervent kisses over each other then Potsie looked down and happened to see the little clock they had brought months ago. 

“Richie! We’ve got to get back.”

Turning and seeing the time, Richie knew he was right but didn’t want to go. He kept Potsie trapped in his arms, kissing his face. “I don’t want to.”

“I know. I wanted time to…,” he trailed off. 

Richie knew exactly what he meant. Instead he pressed one last kiss to Potsie’s cheek and helped him gather things up and blow out candles. They walked back, desperately wanting to hold hands but unable to have even that small affection. No one was home as Potsie put things away. Richie had settled on the couch when Potsie came out of the kitchen. 

“How much time do you think we have?”

“Not much.”

“Enough for one more kiss?” Potsie asked. 

“I think so.” Richie patted the couch beside him and Potsie flew onto the cushions and claimed his mouth. They were just pulling apart when they heard the car in the driveway. Potsie shifted to a slightly further away position while Richie sighed. They kept their faces turned toward each other, as if they’d been talking, and were in those positions when Marion and Howard came in. 

“Hello boys,” Marion greeted them with a smile. 

“Hi Mom.” 

“Hi, Mrs. C. Did you have a good time?”

“Oh it was lovely. And Richard, I actually got your father up to dance!”

“That’s great, Mom.” They chatted a bit longer then both boys said they were getting tired and would head up to their rooms. 

“Well, good night then boys.” She felt like something important had happened with them that night but she didn’t know what. She shook her head, as if to clear it. 

Upstairs, Potsie stopped. “Richie, why don’t you use the bathroom first?”

Richie looked at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” 

Richie shrugged, went to his room and then back to the bathroom. When he exited Potsie was nowhere to be found. Disappointed, having hoped for one last kiss, Richie went into his room. He stopped as he saw his bed. There were two perfect red roses lying on the pillow, stems crossed like blades. 

Gaze soft, Richie crossed and picked one up, smelling it. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Potsie.”

In his room, Potsie thought he could hear something and whispered back, “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

_A few months later_

“Hey Richie!” Ralph Malph shouted, running up to him on campus. “Are you done?”

“No, one more final to take later this afternoon, Ralph,” Richie replied. “Then I’m done.”

“Can you believe we’re going to be juniors in college next year?” Ralph babbled on but Richie tuned him out. They sat down on a bench in the quad, Richie trying to study despite Ralph’s chattering. 

“Ralph, stop bugging him,” came a voice from Richie’s right. “He’s still got an exam!”

Richie smiled and looked up at his lover. “Hey Pots. How’d it go?” He knew Potsie had been worried about his last exam today.

“Good. All that studying paid off.” Potsie desperately wanted to kiss Richie but knew he couldn’t. Instead he sat down on the bench, very close, pretending to look at Richie’s notes. 

“Well, we should let him study, Pots,” Ralph said, standing. “And I’ve got a celebratory date with Lori Beth tonight. I need to get ready.”

Potsie reluctantly stood. “Yeah, guess I should get going too. Good luck, Rich,” he clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, wishing he could give him a kiss for luck. 

“Thanks guys,” Richie waved as they left, feeling the warm heat of Potsie hand print. He grinned to himself as he thought of his own post-exam plans and then focused back on his notes. 

A few hours later, Potsie, Ralph, Lori Beth, Chachi, Joanie and everyone were at Arnold’s when Richie came bursting in. “I’m done! Al, give me the biggest sundae you have!”

“Coming up, Richie,” came the call from the kitchen. 

“How’d it go?” Potsie asked, scooting over. 

“Pretty good. I think I did very well.” 

The group talked for a while then Fonzie came in and things got really raucous. In the middle of it all Richie leaned over and spoke quietly to Potsie, “we still on for tomorrow night?”

“Of course,” Potsie beamed back. 

“Great.” With a smile of his own, Richie backed up then turned to Fonzie, making a motion with his head. Potsie watched them head to Fonz’s office, idly wondering what was up. He figured Richie had something special planned for their celebratory date tomorrow night but was content to wait to find out the details. 

Everyone was chattering on when the pair came back. The group slowly broke up. Joanie told her brother that she’d be along and he scowled but wasn’t truly upset. 

The pair took Richie’s car home, sitting in companionable silence. Knowing better than to start anything but wanting to touch, Potsie put his hand on Richie’s thigh and stroked his fingers. He enjoyed the way Rich’s breathing hiccupped. 

After a normal night, the boys retired to their rooms, pleading exhaustion. Richie said he planned on sleeping in late the next day, to which Mr. Cunningham huffed. 

The next morning was filled with friends and talking about what they were going to do that summer. Once again Richie was going to be working at the Milwaukee Journal, this time as an intern. Potsie had gotten a job bagging at the local grocery store but neither of them started til the next week. They spent that first day resting and relaxing and hanging out with their friends. 

At least until late afternoon. Then both men excused themselves, saying they had plans. Almost everyone they knew seemed to have plans as well. Marion and Howard, did not, however. They were sitting at home, watching television, when the boys arrived back. 

“Hello boys, how was your first day of vacation?”

“Good, Mom,” Richie said, “but now I’ve got to ready for my date.”

“Me too,” Potsie added, heading up the stairs. 

“Have fun!”

Before Potsie could go into his room, Richie stopped him. “Pots, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to wait.”

“What?”

“Wait to come to the house. About half an hour?”

Smiling, Potsie nodded. “All right.”

Amazed at the trust, Richie ran off to his room to change and grab what he needed. Then, peeking out, he hurried downstairs. “You remember that Potsie and I are staying at the frat house tonight, right Mom? So we won’t be home till later tomorrow.”

“I remember, Richard.”

“Good.” He hurried to the door. “Good night.” 

“Good night dear.”

A few minutes later Potsie appeared and pretended to make a phone call. He then explained that his date was running late and that he would meet her there. 

“Well, you have fun, Warren,” Marion bustled over and smoothed his jacket. “Don’t stay out too late before going back to the fraternity house.”

Potsie smiled, remembering that Richie had told him the plan. They were saying that they were staying at the frat house so they could finally have the whole night to themselves. He couldn’t wait. After a few more pleasantries, he left. He stopped at Arnold’s. No one else was there, everyone was on their dates. 

By then it was time and he headed to old Lady Simpson’s. He climbed the stairs to ‘their’ room and stopped at the door, smiling. He straightened his tie and smoothed his jacket, then opened the door. Their usual table held no food, only a lit candle. There was no music playing either. Setting his bag down, he ventured further into the room, puzzlement on his face. 

“Richie?”

Out of the shadows stepped Richie Cunningham, resplendent in his outfit. He looked very nervous for some reason. 

Potsie started to move toward him but Richie held his hand out, stilling him. 

Richie stayed so still he seemed a statue, then he reached into his pocket and pulled something free. He stepped close but not into Potsie’s personal space. Hand clenched tightly around whatever he was holding, he swallowed, hard. 

Potsie felt a frission of fear go through him. 

“Potsie. I had intended to wait for this but I can’t…I just can’t wait anymore. It has to be now.”

Potsie was getting more and more alarmed. He watched Richie swallow again. Potsie gasped as Richie went down on one knee. He watched Richie open his hand and inside were two beautiful but plain silver rings, obviously made for men to wear. Richie removed one and held it up. 

“Warren Webber, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Potsie froze for half a second in pure shock then collapsed to his knees, threw his arms around Richie and cried, “Yes! Oh yes!” 

They held each other tight for what felt like forever then Richie eased him back. He got up and held his hand down and out, Potsie grabbing it like a lifeline. When they were standing again, Richie said, “Good, because I thought we’d have the wedding now.”

“What?”

“Obviously we can’t get married ‘for real’. In a church or with our family watching. I wish we could,” Richie said with some bitterness, “but we can’t. So I thought we could do it here. Now.”

“Just speak our vows?” Potsie asked, smiling. 

“Sort of. Except--” he turned toward the door, “I thought we’d have someone marry us.”

Just then, through the door, came the Fonz. “Ayyyyyyyy.”

“Fonzie’s going to marry us?”

“What, having the Fonz tell ya you’re married ain’t good enough for you, Potsie?”

“Oh no, Fonz.” He smiled. “It works for me. Probably more official than doing it at City Hall.”

“All right.” That’s when Potsie noticed that Fonzie was wearing a black bow tie and nicer shirt under his leather jacket. He pulled some papers out of his pocket and opened them. “Then step right over here, Gentlemen, and let’s get started.”

Richie and Potsie walked over and assumed their positions. Turning to look at each other, Richie reached out and handed Potsie the other ring. 

“We are gathered here today to witness Richard Cunningham and Warren Webber enter in matrimony. I won’t ask if there are any objections because I know you two don’t object and I wouldn’t be here if I did. Whoa.”

Richie and Potsie both smiled. 

“Let’s get to the good stuff. Do you have the rings?”

Richie opened his hand to show where he’d been clenching the ring, tight. Potsie also opened his hand. 

“Potsie, put the ring on Richie there,” Potsie took Rich’s hand and started sliding the ring on, “and repeat after me--’with this ring, I thee wed’.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Fonzie turned to Richie, “Your turn, Red.” When Richie had the ring ready he said, “now say ‘with this ring, I thee wed’.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

“Now I’m supposed to say stuff about ‘til death do us part’ but I figure you guys will have your own things you want to say to each other. Now’s the time to say ‘em.” He made a gesture toward Potsie. “You first, Webber.”

“I don’t know what to say. Except,” he went on at Fonzie’s prodding, “that you’re the best thing ever to happen to me and I love you so much, Richie.”

When it became clear that was all he could say, Fonzie turned to Richie. “And you?”

“Potsie, I never dreamed I would end up here, with you. But now that I am, I can’t imagine anyplace else I’d rather be. Finding you, finding our love, was like finding an unexpected flower in a field of snow. Surprising and a bit shocking but giving you happiness and joy.” He linked his hands with Potsie’s. “I’ll always regret that it took you almost dying for us to find it, but never regret that we _did_ find it.” He seemed about to say more then simply added, “I love you too.”

Potsie was struggling not to cry and Richie’s eyes seemed moist too. Even the Fonz seemed a little teary. He cleared his throat hard. 

“Well, by the power invested in me by being The Fonz, I hereby pronounce you,” he paused then said, “married. Let’s see a kiss now.”

Moving as if they were one, they met over their linked hands and kissed softly. They broke it when a flutter of something fell over their heads, Richie laughing as he realized that Fonzie had just thrown some rice over them. He let go of Potsie and moved, hugging his friend. “Thank you, Fonz. That was beautiful.”

“Yeah, thanks, Fonz,” Potsie echoed and was surprised to also be pulled into a hug. 

“Hey, it’s like I told Red--the Fonz is all for true love.” He patted them both on the back and then said, “And speaking of true love, I’ll leave you boys to it.” He shot a look at Richie and something communicated silently between them. He took off the tie--it was a clip on--and put it in his pocket. He headed for the door then snapped his fingers and came back. “Almost forgot.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped package. “For the both of you. To say congrats.”

Richie took it, shaking his head. “Fonzie you didn’t have to. You’ve done so much for us already!”

“Just take it, Red. Everyone deserves a wedding present when they get married.” He looked at them then crossed back to the door. “Happy Honeymoon. Whoa!”

And with that, the Fonz was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

Richie and Potsie looked at each other then burst out laughing. 

“Should we open this now?” Potsie asked, taking the package. 

“No. It can wait. For now, there’s something else I’d like to do.”

“Oh yeah?” Potsie grinned. 

“We’ve got all night for that,” Richie said, without looking back. He pulled out their record player and set an album spinning. “But for now, I’d really like to dance with my husband.”

Potsie started at the word and then melted as Venus by Frankie Avalon came on. Their song. He stepped over to Richie and drew him close. They swayed to the song, holding each other in their arms. When the song ended neither wanted to move. It was like if they did the spell would be broken. 

At last Richie took hold of Potsie’s hand and, walking backwards, led him out of the room and down the hall. This was a section of the house they’d never been in and Potsie wondered where they were going. He found out when Richie made a ‘stay’ gesture and went inside the last room at the right. 

The door opened again and Potsie gaped. Inside the room was a smallish but serviceable bed. Scattered around the room were candles and a Coleman lantern that Richie had obviously just lit. It was a honeymoon suite. Or as near as they were ever likely to get. 

“What…? How?” Potsie asked, still rooted in the doorway. 

“Fonz.” It answered all questions without giving details. 

“Remind me to thank him.”

“I already did. For both of us.” Richie’s look grew a little uncertain. “Are you coming in?”

Potsie smiled. “First you need to come back here.”

“Why?” Richie yelped as Potsie swept him up into his arms. “Potsie!”

“Supposed to carry you over the threshold,” Potsie laughed. 

Richie laughed along, feeling partly silly and partly giddy. He let out a little whoosh of air as Pots put him down on the bed. He smiled up Potsie and then sat up, moving to kneel in front of him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered as he skated his hands over Potsie’s chest. 

“You make me feel beautiful,” came the quiet reply. 

With a smile, Richie slid the jacket off his lover’s body, letting it fall to the ground. The room was relatively clean, he and Fonzie had seen to that. He un-knotted the tie and threw that aside as well. As his fingers unbuttoned Potsie’s shirt, they trembled ever so slightly. Hands came up and caught hold.

“Richie?”

“I can’t believe I’m here. With you. I don’t want this to be a dream.”

“It isn’t.” Potsie leaned down and crushed his mouth over Richie’s, their need growing. As the kiss spiraled on and on, Richie got his fingers working again and undid the shirt, pulling it back over Potsie’s shoulders. As the fabric fell, his hands met the warm flesh and he moaned. Hands roaming wherever they liked, Richie licked into Potsie’s mouth, enjoying the sweet taste. 

Potsie’s hands moved to take off his jacket and tie as well. He soon had Richie’s shirt undone and cast aside. Both chests bare, they clasped their bodies together, naked skin touching. Mutual groans passed into each other’s mouths. 

Almost without realizing what he was doing, Potsie shoved his hands down the back of Richie’s pants, cupping his ass. He yanked him close, their bodies pressed together tight. The fire burned as their groins met and sent off sparks that Richie could almost swear were visible to the naked eye. 

“Naked,” Richie panted. “We need to be naked.” Then he let out a whimper of loss as Potsie pulled back from him. He surged forward in an effect to reclaim those lips, that body, but Potsie was undoing his belt as frantically as he could. Richie blinked then realized what was going on. Another second later and he threw himself back on the bed and began wrestling out of his own pants. Trousers were shucked off, shoes and socks discarded. Without a thought or hesitation Richie removed his underwear and tossed it across the room. 

When he sat back up he looked and sighed. Potsie was also nude, not a stitch of clothing on him. The light of the candles and the glow of the Coleman lamp reflected off his skin and hair. 

“You look like an angel.” It was said so softly and reverently that Potsie almost couldn’t hear him. To Richie’s surprise, Potsie blushed. Smiling, he reached out with one hand. “Come to bed, my husband. Our wedding bed.”

A shiver ran through both of them. Potsie took his hand and climbed into the bed. Potsie brought his other hand up and Richie intertwined his fingers. There was a soft but audible ‘clink’. They both looked down and saw their rings had touched, making the noise. 

Richie looked up and saw such love pouring from Potsie’s eyes that it shook him. Their mouths met once again, this time in great affection. Potsie lowered Richie to the bed and began pressing kisses all over his body. 

When he’d kissed all the front, Potsie said, “turn over, Rich.”

Richie obeyed without question. Potsie crawled up, over his body, and began kissing again, starting with the nape of his neck. He moved downward, stopping at the swell of his ass. Richie felt hot breath on him then mewled as Potsie resumed kissing. First down then one cheek, then the other. They’d never done this before. The new sensations were blinding. Richie’s hips worked, as if of their own accord, against the bed. 

Potsie kissed down to Richie’s feet then back up and once more on the cheeks. His hands rubbed over that sweet flesh. He wanted to…he didn’t know what. But he wanted it. 

Seeming to read his mind, Richie slowly started to turn back over. He sat up, Potsie kneeling between his legs. 

“I’ve been doing some reading. Anatomy and other things. There..there’s a way for men to be with other men. It’s supposed to feel good.” 

Potsie looked at him, knowing Richie would tell the story. 

“It’s…well, you put your cock,” Richie almost stumbled over the word but was proud he hadn’t, “well…” he made a gesture. 

Potsie looked and felt his blood heat. “Really? And it feels good?”

“Yes. A man has something called a prostate in there. If you touch it right it gives you an orgasm.”

“Does it hurt?” It seemed like it would hurt, to Potsie. 

“It can. But not if you use lubricant.”

“Like for a bike?” Potsie felt stupid the instant he said it and ducked his head. 

Richie cupped Potsie’s chin and lifted his head, smiling. “Sort of. Only this is just something slick and slippery to ease the way. I brought something, in case you wanted to try?”

Potsie looked at him. “Did you?”

Richie licked his lips. “Yes.” His cheeks were burning but if he couldn’t be honest with Potsie, who could he be honest with? “I want it,” he confessed. “You can’t make love to me as a man does a woman. But this is pretty close.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Richie.”

“You won’t. We’ll be careful.” Richie kissed him. “I trust you.”

It shook Potsie to know he meant that. No one had ever trusted him like that. No one except Richie. And some part of him did want to try. He thought maybe this was what he’d been thinking, in the back of his mind, when he’d touched Richie’s backside. “OK.”

“Really?” The smile that lit Richie’s face could have powered the city for a year. 

“Really. So, um, what do we do?”

“Here, first we need,” and Richie got up and went to a bag on the floor. He pulled out some Vaseline and a washcloth and brought them back to the bed. “According to the books, you need to put some on your finger, then put your finger in me.”

Unsure but willing to try, Potsie dipped a finger in then rubbed. Richie went to lay back. Potsie stopped him. “Wait. Should you be the other way? Stomach down, I mean.”

“I suppose.” He didn’t really want to, he wanted to see Potsie, but he knew it was for the best. He flipped over and propped his head up on his folded arms. “OK.”

Potsie parted Richie’s cheeks and looked down at the rosy pucker now showing. With the hand he had slicked up, he touched. He felt Richie jump underneath him and almost pulled back. He went still and asked, “all right?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

Potsie took a breath and then slowly eased the tip of his finger inside. He was immediately overwhelmed by the heat and tightness. He almost missed the noise from Richie. “Rich?”

“Feels…different. Keep going. But slow.”

Potsie very gradually eased his finger in, till it was down to the knuckle. He looked up at Richie. “How do you feel?”

“All right. Go ahead and pull that one out. Now you slick up two and put them back in.”

Nodding, forgetting that Richie couldn’t see him, Potsie coated his fingers again and carefully inserted them. There was a little more wriggling from Richie until he had them both in. After a few moments, Richie spoke. 

“According to, well, my sources, you’re supposed to move them in a motion like scissors.”

Once again nodding, Potsie did it. Once. He stopped instantly as Richie let out a loud gasp. 

“Rich?” He almost pulled his fingers free out of fear. 

“Pots. Something you did…I think…” Richie was having trouble forming sentences. 

Intuitively, Potsie repeated the movement. As he did he thought he felt something under the one finger. As he brushed it, Richie gasped again. Potsie grinned. “I think I just found that prostate you were talking about, Richie!” He poked at it. 

“Potsie!” Richie voice was strangled. 

“Oh God, did I hurt you?” Potsie started to pull his fingers free. 

“No. I just didn’t want to come yet.”

Potsie, fingers out now, bent down to look at his lover. “Richie?”

Richie looked back at him, eyes dazed. “It felt like you were going to make me come just from that!”

“Oh yeah?” Potsie tucked that idea way for now. “So what’s next?”

“What?” 

Potsie leaned down and kissed Richie. “What’s the next step, Richie? Three fingers?”

“Y-y-y-eah,” Richie stammered out. 

Potsie did three, careful to avoid touching that spot. He didn’t want Richie coming yet. After a bit, Richie choked out, “All right, Pots. That’s enough.”

Withdrawing his fingers and wiping them off on the washcloth, Potsie realized he thought he knew where this was going. And it excited him. Oh, did it excite him! 

“Richie?”

“Now,” Richie’s voice was shaking, “you put some on yourself and slide in, slowly.”

Looking down and thinking there was no way that he would fit, Potsie hesitated. Richie looked back at him. “Potsie?”

“I--I’m a little scared.”

Richie reached back a hand, Potsie taking hold with his clean one. “I trust you. You won’t hurt me. You’re my husband. I love you.”

Potsie closed his eyes and gripped that hand tight as a tidal wave crashed over his emotions. “I love you too, Richie.” He realized something. “I want to see you. I want to look in my husband’s eyes.”

With a pleased smile Richie turned back over. He watched as Potsie, hands shaking, coated himself up. His eyes followed as Potsie lined up his cock and hooked Richie’s legs around him. 

Licking his lips, Potsie looked up and met Richie’s eyes. He wanted to say something, something profound. All he could do was repeat, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” came the instant reply. 

Steady but inching in, Potsie breached Richie. Ready to stop at the slightest indication he watched the man underneath him. He kept going since there seemed no signs of pain. Little by little he sank deeper. Richie never once stopped him or made a noise of distress. When he was in, Richie gave a little whimper and he became motionless.

Fear in his voice, he asked, “Richie?”

“I’m all right, Pots. Just need a minute to get used to you.”

“You’re sure I’m not hurting you?” 

“I’m sure.” Richie opened his eyes and smiled. “It’s been perfect. I just need time. You’re big.”

A flush spread across Potsie’s cheeks. “Not that big.”

“Sure seems that way to me,” Richie laughed and his body clenched around Potsie, who groaned at the feeling. “Would you kiss me, Potsie?”

“As if you even have to ask.” Potsie leaned down and claimed his lover’s lips. 

When the kiss ended Richie lifted the hands that had been clenching the sheets. He put one in Potsie’s hair and the other on his chest, over his heart. “You’re in me.” His voice was full of wonder. 

Looking down Potsie seemed to realize it too. “I am.” He sounded awestruck. “I’m in you.”

Dragging his head back down, Richie kissed him passionately. “I’m ready,” he said as he released those luscious lips. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” It was one word but it meant everything. 

“Now you move. Like when we move against each other.” They’d rubbed against each other in various states during other visits to the house. Partly dressed, all dressed, naked, many different ways. 

Potsie nodded. It was hard to stay still, wrapped in that beautiful heat, but he would rather die than hurt Richie. 

Long moments passed then Richie raised his legs and wrapped them around his lover., drawing him in close. Meeting Potsie’s eyes, he simply said, “now.” 

Potsie withdrew almost to the point of slipping free then moved back in. He watched Richie for signs and when he saw nothing but pleasure he did it again. He kept repeating the movement, his pace picking up, catching the rhythm. Soon they were moving together, bodies in motion. Richie lifted his hand from Potsie’s back and slid it down to his throbbing erection, grasping tightly. 

“I should do that,” Potsie said.

“You just concentrate on what you’re doing,” Richie assured him, “and leave this to me.” He began to match the timing of Potsie’s thrusts with his hand. They began moving in perfect sync. Potsie felt a greater need consume him and he began thrusting harder, faster. Richie met him, each push and shove. Their breath coming in gasps, Posted hitting Richie’s prostate now, they felt their culmination nearing. 

Richie moaned, low in his throat. 

“Rich. Richie, I--I’m so close.”

“Kiss me. Please kiss me, Potsie!”

Leaning down, Potsie plundered Richie’s mouth, their tongues battling. Little huffs of breath escaped as they would part for a second then dive back in. Potsie lifted his mouth as he felt himself moments away. He looked down in his beautiful lover’s eyes. “I’m going to come,” he groaned out. 

“Me too,” came the breathless reply. Two more great plunges and Potsie cried out as he poured himself into Richie. It was too much for Richie. He spurted as well, coating himself and Potsie. 

When they were both spent, Potsie collapsed to the bed, falling on his side to keep from squishing Richie. He tried to catch his breath. When he felt somewhat back under control he raised dazed eyes and gasped at the sight in front of him. Richie, his body soaked with come, eyes lidded with spent passion. “God, you’re gorgeous!” He couldn’t believe the beautiful creature next to him was his lover. 

Richie turned his head and gazed at him. Potsie was equally stunning, sweat glistening on his chest, along with Richie’s come. He couldn’t help himself as he reached out and slid a fingertip through it. “You’re not so bad yourself,” Richie smiled. They both let out a little laugh then Richie started to struggle up. Potsie pushed him back down, gently, and got up. He got the washcloth and wet it again, kneeled on the bed, washing his lover. 

“Do you hurt anywhere?”

“No. I feel fantastic. We should have done this before.”

Potsie laughed. “It was amazing. You were amazing.” He put the cloth aside and leaned down to kiss Richie’s lips. He gathered him up, Richie’s head resting on his chest. “Fonzie said we had the place for the night, right?”

“Yeah. No one to bother us.”

“So we could sleep?”

Richie smiled against Potsie’s skin. “We could. Wouldn’t you rather…?”

“I think we need a little rest first. A nap?”

“Sounds good.”

They held each other as their exertions tempted them to Dreamland. As Richie began to doze off he heard Potsie say, “best night of my life, Richie.”

“More to come,” Richie mumbled before he dropped off. 

The next morning, before at least one more bout of lovemaking, Warren Webber had the best _morning_ of his life. He woke in that bed, with Richie Cunningham in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! This one is pretty short but I wanted it to 'stand alone', as it were.

_Years later_

“And do you, Warren, take Richard to be your lawful wedded spouse? If so, say I do.”

“I do.”

“Then by the authority vested in me, by the state of Massachusetts, I pronounce you married. You may kiss.”

The cheers started from the back and worked their way up. Potsie barely heard them as he leaned in and kissed Richie, those oh so well-known lips. They broke apart grinning. “Really legal this time.”

“Yes, it is.”

As they walked down the aisle, hand in hand, they smiled at all their friends and family who finally got to share in the joy. They had been together for so long now it had generally been accepted by everyone. They had accidentally been outed to Richie’s parents their senior year in college. Mr. and Mrs. C had been surprisingly accepting, though Marion had lamented her lack of grandchildren. 

As Potsie looked over his grown children--the ones he and Richie had adopted--he smiled. Howie and Beth with their own kids, and of course little Arthur. Despite being middle aged, Fonzie’s namesake was still referred to that way by the family. 

Beyond them he saw Chachi and Joanie and their children and grandchildren. Ralph and Lori Beth and their kids were clapping and crying. Fonzie gave them his best thumbs up, tie on with his leather jacket for old times’ sake. It was all those who loved them. 

It had been a good 40 years. Richie had become a writer and had eventually ended up editor of the Milwaukee paper. Potsie had gone on to get his doctorate in Psychology and was Dr. Webber. He still saw patients on occasion but he and Richie were now mostly retired. They traveled and visited the families and enjoyed life. 

And when Potsie had taken Richie back to Milwaukee and proposed to him, in a reverse of Richie’s all those years ago, they had thrown themselves into the wedding plans. Old Lady Simpson’s place had, unfortunately, been made into a shopping mall. The treehouse, Arnold’s, many of the old landmarks were gone. But the old Cunningham house, now known as the Cunningham-Webber house, was still there and it had been there that Potsie had gotten down on one knee. 

He pulled Richie in tight. “Best day of my life.”

“More to come,” Richie grinned back. 

 

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the beginning, please let me know if I need to change/alter any of the tags. This is one of my darker fics and I might have missed warning for something. Please let know if I did!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I need to change/add to tags. Especially with this fic. If I've forgotten to tag/warn for something, please let me know.


End file.
